Crashing Down
by bassetfan
Summary: When Lucas is seriously injured during a mission, will he be allowed to stay on the SeaQuest? Season 3, following the unaired episode 'In Father's Footsteps'.
1. Chapter 1

It seemed to Captain Hudson as though everything stopped when he heard the crack of the ceiling above him as it gave way over his head. He froze in place, for one moment forgetting how to move, or yell or do anything but stand there and wait for the crash. Everything seemed to slow to nothing and time stood still as he watched.

Suddenly, everything changed. He fell forward, pushed outward by some force outside his vision, and now the world was once again moving too fast. He felt the roughness of the ground hitting his face, and a sharp pain in his wrist as his hand automatically pushed out to try - unsuccessfully - to break his fall. He felt dust and debris on top of him. He began to push himself up, and stopped when he heard another volley of gunfire above his head as he lay, feeling foolish and exposed, in the middle of it all.

And then, everything went quiet.

He raised himself up, looking around to assess the situation. In front of him lay five dead Maronesian soldiers, killed by gunfire from his own UEO troops behind him. As he turned to look at them, he saw them running towards him - no, not towards him...to his left...and slowly he turned to see why.

Lying face down in the remains of the room they had been in was his youngest crewmember, Lucas Wolenczak. Large fragments of rock lay on top of him, and blood was staining his back, thigh and legs. His second in command, Jonathon Ford, reached the boy first, quickly checking the side of his neck for a pulse.

"Some help here, now!" he shouted, and started trying to carefully remove the rocks that were covering him.

Lonnie Henderson stood beside him, frozen to the spot, her hand pressed against her mouth in horror. Behind her, the rest of the team looked on, aghast.

"Now!" he yelled again.

Hudson quickly hurried to his side, and started to help free the boy. "Get me a med kit, now! Are we secure?"

His tone of command had the desired effect, and his team started moving once more. Lonnie scrambled to hand him a med kit, while the other two quickly assessed the room.

"Secure, Sir!" they each responded.

He pulled open the med kit and pulled out a roll of gauze and a bandage. For a moment, both he and Ford paused, uncertain whether to risk further damage by applying pressure to the injuries, but they each realized that if the blood loss was too great, it wouldn't matter. They pressed gauze pads onto the wounds to stem the bleeding and secured them in place with the bandages. It was all they could do until they could get him to the med-bay.

"Can you carry him?"

"Yes, Sir, but should we move him like this?"

"Nothing else we can do. We don't have the luxury of time to fetch a stretcher to do this properly, we just have to risk it."

"You," he pointed to the first crewman, "in front, and you," turning to the other, 'take the rear. Let's get him to the launch."

They raised their guns and took up their positions, as Ford carefully rolled the unconscious boy over and picked him up from the floor.

He saw Lonnie's white horrified face. "Henderson! Move!"

Shocked into action, she started to move with the rest. Hudson frowned at her lack of self control, but she seemed oblivious of his disapproval.

* * *

The journey to the launch was short, and thankfully without incident. No more enemy soldiers appeared, and they were able to get underway quickly.

Ford laid the boy down on one of the benches.

"How is he?" Hudson asked.

"I don't know. He hasn't moved or regained consciousness. He's lost a lot of blood, and running with him to the launch didn't help. He's still bleeding heavily. It's bad, Captain."

Hudson knew that already. He'd seen injuries like that before, and knew better than Ford how bad it might be.

"Let's not borrow trouble, Commander, we don't know how bad it is until we get him to the med-bay." He glanced at the boy's still white face, and noticed a bluish tinge to the lips. He couldn't stop himself from adding, "but if you pray, now would be an excellent time to do so."

It was another short journey to the seaQuest, but to all on board it seemed to take forever as their friend lay unresponsive and deathly pale. Lonnie had recovered herself enough to be able to pilot them quickly back, and even had the presence of mind to call ahead to the seaQuest to have a med team waiting, but they felt helpless in the knowledge that there was nothing else any of them could do but sit at their stations and wait as the life seemed to flow out of their friend.


	2. Chapter 2

As the call for a med team came through to seaQuest, an uneasy silence descended on the bridge. Tim O'Neill shot a look at Tony Piccolo, and saw him bite his lip with worry.

All of the seaQuest crew, old and new, had settled into their new places, and a camaraderie had formed between all of them, as it so often does when people are pushed together in difficult circumstances. New friendships had formed, and though there were always differences of opinion and personalities that grated, for the most part, everyone on the ship was a part of their family and a loss would be felt.

But despite all of that, the old crew had been together through some of the strangest and most trying times that could be imagined, and it felt as though their bonds were forever and unbreakable.

So, as terrible as it was, when the call for a med team came through, both Tim and Tony couldn't help but think, 'please, not one of ours...', and Tim began to pray.

* * *

The med team met the returning soldiers at the launch bay and quickly went to work. Standing by and relinquishing control to the medics was one of the hardest things they had to do. They knew it was pointless to ask questions at this stage. Quietly, they followed as the medics rushed to prep the boy for surgery. Hudson turned to his remaining team.

"You two, return to the bridge and relieve O'Neill and Piccolo. Send them down here." He knew they would want to be down in the med-bay, waiting with the rest of his friends.

The two crewmen returned to the bridge.

"We've been ordered to relieve you, you're to go down to med bay."

O'Neill went white. This wasn't good. This meant that it was a friend. "Who was hurt?"

Everyone on the bridge seemed to hold their breath for a moment as the answer came that no-one wanted to hear.

"Lucas."

Piccolo asked the next question that was on everyone's lips. "Well, what happened? Is he going to be alright?"

The crewmen looked at each other.

"I think you'd better get down there", was the only answer he got.

* * *

The two of them took off at speed, neither saying a word. When they reached the med bay, the expressions on the faces of Hudson, Ford and Henderson seemed to say it all. Lonnie had red eyes and was hitching her breath as if she was trying to stop herself from crying. Jonathon was holding her hand, his thumb rubbing circles over her palm, but neither of them were speaking. Hudson looked - O'Neill wasn't even sure how to describe how he looked, he had always been hard to read, no one would ever accuse him of wearing his heart on his sleeve. On reflection, O'Neill decided that he looked more angry than anything else.

In that, O'Neill was right. Hudson was angry. He was, in fact, furious. Worry and sadness were emotions he didn't have time for, they made you weak. He had learned to value the strength that came from channeling his feelings into anger, and right now, he needed that.

He was angry that he had frozen for that brief second of time. He was angry that he was waiting to see whether an eighteen year old member of his crew would live or die while he was in charge. He was angry that he had, against his better judgement, allowed that boy to enlist, when he knew full well that he was no soldier, that he couldn't possibly have considered the risks involved and was only signing on because he didn't want to leave seaQuest. He was angry at the UEO for accepting the boy, when everyone was well aware that he was only doing it because he had become accustomed to that way of life. The UEO was very happy to have the boy's talents working for them, and hadn't spared a thought for his well being. He was angry that Nathan Bridger had left him to deal with this mess, a civilian child with nowhere else to go. And most of all, he was angry that lately he had been so hard on this boy, who had so recently betrayed his trust, and now he owed him a debt so huge that he may never get the chance to repay it.

He looked up as O'Neill and Piccolo ran to them.

"What happened?"

"How is he?"

Ford looked first at Hudson, and then answered them. "He's in surgery right now. We don't know anything yet."

Lonnie looked at him in surprise. "What do you mean, we don't know anything? We saw what happened, we saw how he looked, we know it's not going to be good!" Her voice took on a slightly hysterical note, "He's not going to shake this off and be back at work on Monday morning, is he?!"

She started to cry properly then, and Jonathon took her in his arms and tried to calm her.

This time, Tony looked directly at Captain Hudson. "What happened, Sir?"

"We were taken by surprise." He paused, and corrected, "I was taken by surprise. A booby trap. There was a sound, like an explosion, but quieter, muted somehow - at first, I didn't think anything had happened. Then I heard a huge crack above my head, and Wolenczak pushed me out of the way. The ceiling collapsed on top of him."

There was a moment of stunned silence.

"Will he...I mean, will...how..." Piccolo trailed off, not wanting to say the words aloud.

"Large chunks of cement and rock landed on his back and legs. As Lieutenant Henderson put it, I don't think he'll brush this off and be better by Monday."

O'Neill felt himself bristle at the Captains tone. He seemed to be too calm about the whole thing. He thought of all the slights that he and Lucas had suffered since Captain Hudson had taken command, the captain's obvious dislike of the two of them, and his anger rose.

"He was hurt saving you!" He almost spat the last word.

"Believe me, Lieutenant, I'm no happier about it than you are."

By now, Piccolo was also starting to resent Hudson's tone. Ford left Lonnie and moved to intervene.

"Stop this. This isn't helping anyone. Right now, the only thing we should be focusing on is Lucas. You'll have plenty of time to fight with each other later on."

They nodded and sat down. And waited. And waited.


	3. Chapter 3

It seemed like a million years to Tony as he sat there. He was never very patient at the best of times, and this was not the best of times. He thought of Lucas as a little brother - albeit, an annoying, know it all, cocky as hell little brother - but still...sometimes he seemed so young. Tony couldn't think of him being hurt, possibly even...no, that was NOT an option. Luke was going to be fine. He just knew it. The others were over-reacting, that was all. Lucas would be bugging the hell out of him again soon enough. He was sure of it.

* * *

Tim felt sick. Of all of them, he had known Lucas the longest, and probably better than the others. Sure, Ford had known him for the same amount of time, but they'd never been close friends the way Tim and Lucas were. Not that anyone really knew Lucas. Everyone thought they did, but Lucas kept a lot to himself, he never really opened up to anyone. It was like the whole situation with Captain Bridger. Lucas never talked about it, not once, not properly. One minute they were like father and son and the next, well, there was Bridger telling everyone that he was leaving seaQuest and going back home to look after his grandson and look for his son. Tim had instantly looked at Lucas and seen the shock and hurt on his face, which immediately disappeared, replaced by an unreadable expression. It happened so quickly that Tim almost wondered if he imagined it, but he knew he didn't. Everyone else (for it had been discussed extensively around the boat by one and all) assumed that Lucas and the Captain had discussed it between themselves first, but he knew differently. Because of that split second when Lucas' real feelings revealed themselves. Tim knew that Bridger's announcement was the first the boy had heard of it.

And since that moment, Lucas hardly ever mentioned him. He'd laugh and smile when other people brought him up, but Tim suspected that contrary to everybody's expectations, Lucas rarely heard from him. A few times, Tim had tried to get Lucas to talk about it with no success. Even when Lucas first joined the crew - what seemed like a halcyon time a million years ago - Lucas had been shuttered when it came to certain subjects, like his parents. Since that time, everything just seemed to have changed for the worst, and Lucas now had walls around him that no-one could get past. Not that many people tried. Lucas put on a good front, and for most people, that was fine. But every now and then, Tim would look over at him and for an unguarded moment, he would see a lost, desperate look on his face. Tim wished he'd tried harder to get through those barriers. Just let him come through this okay, Tim prayed, and I'll try harder to be a better friend. Just let him be okay.

* * *

Tim would have been surprised if he had known how close Jonathon's thoughts were to his own. Jonathon guessed some of what he was thinking, because he'd often thought along similar lines. He'd never been close to Lucas. Hell, Lucas was a child for heaven's sake, and Jonathon had never really known how to deal with him. His intelligence and position made him a contributing member of the crew, but his age and immaturity often made him act like a moody teenager. He couldn't discipline him by threatening him with the brig as he did with Krieg, so he left Lucas for Bridger.

But then Bridger left, Hudson took over and everything changed. Lucas became an ensign, but Jonathon no longer had to worry about disciplining him for his pranks, because there were no more pranks. Sometimes he appeared to enjoy some of Tony's escapades, but he didn't seem to want to instigate any himself.

Sure, everything had changed so much over the past few years - three or thirteen?, he didn't even know - and that had hit everyone hard, but Lucas most of all. He didn't seem to have a place anymore. Was he 18 or 28? All of them had faced that problem, but Lucas was the only one who was suddenly expected to be an adult. Suddenly, he was on his own, but without the support structure that most people have. He'd lived in some kind of institution for most of his life - boarding schools, college, and then seaQuest. It had hit him hard when on his return he found out that his father was missing, presumed dead, and no one knew whether he had any kind of relationship with his mother. With Lucas, you just didn't like to ask. Jonathon still thought that he could have coped, but Bridger's defection had changed Lucas in a way that nothing else could have. He seemed to close himself off from that moment, but there were times when the boy's guard was down and he just looked impossibly young and hopelessly lost.

He should never have enlisted, that much was certain, but then what? Where could he go? Sometimes, Jonathon thought Lucas was like one of those prisoners you hear about who've been in jail for so long that they just can't cope when they're released and have to make it on the outside. Lucas had to stay on the seaQuest. But right now, Jonathon wished he'd tried harder to keep him from enlisting.

* * *

Lonnie couldn't stop crying. She had seen Hudson's glowering looks in her direction, and knew he thought she should be controlling her emotions better, but she couldn't. This was Lucas, her friend, and she was so scared for him. She'd seen him there, lying on the floor, his blood soaking his clothes, and she didn't need a medical degree to know that it was bad. Like the others, she had seen how he changed over the past months, how hard everything had been for him. But he always had time for his friends, always put their needs first, and now he was lying in there, his life in the balance because of that very trait of valuing everyone else above himself. She thought of the countless times he had been there for her to talk to, or helped Dagwood...Dagwood!

She started suddenly, and everyone looked at her, surprised.

"Dagwood? Has anyone told Dagwood?"

Their looks of stunned horror told her clearly that he had been forgotten in their confusion. She wiped her eyes and cleared her throat.

"I'll go and find him, let him know." She stood up.

Tony rose too. "I'll come too. I can't sit here another minute. Will you call us if you hear anything?"

Ford nodded. "As soon as someone comes out, we'll call you."

"We'll try not to be too long, we'll be right back. Does anyone know where he might be?"

Hudson spoke into the silence. "I think he's working on some repairs by the moonpool."

'Thanks," she acknowledged, "we'll be right back."

And they left.

* * *

They found Dagwood by the moonpool, just as Hudson had said. They had walked there in silence, too wrapped up in their own thoughts to speak, but when they saw him they each regretted that they hadn't taken a moment to discuss how they would handle this. Dagwood was so much like a child, and Lucas was his friend. They didn't even know anything yet, and yet here they were trying to prepare Dagwood for news that they weren't even ready to accept.

Tony spoke first. "Dagwood."

He stood up from the floor where he'd been kneeling and smiled. "Oh, hey Tony, Lonnie!" He saw Tony's somber expression and Lonnie's red eyes, and felt afraid. "Is everything alright?"

"Dagwood..." Lonnie started, and felt furious with herself when she once again felt that uncomfortable hitching feeling in her throat as she started to speak. Tony saw, and took over.

"Dagwood, there's been an accident. Lucas is hurt."

"Will he be okay?" His eyes flicked from one to the other.

"We don't know yet. He's in the med bay. We're waiting to hear. We thought you'd like to be with us." He didn't know why he said it, but he qualified, "For Lucas."

Dagwood nodded slowly. "For Lucas...yes. Dagwood wants to be there for Lucas. Lucas is my friend."

And at that simple speech, Lonnie gave up all pretense once more and let the tears flow.

Tony turned and brought her into a hug, when Darwin appeared. Dagwood moved over to stroke the dolphin's nose.

"Lucas hurt."

"Yes, Darwin, Lucas is hurt."

"Lucas nearly dark. Help Lucas."

Tony sat next to Dagwood.

"We will buddy. If we can, we will!"


	4. Chapter 4

They had just returned to the med bay when Doctor Perry finally appeared. She looked haggard. They all stood as she entered the room.

"Please, sit down," she directed them, "I'm going to. I can't stand for another minute." She sighed as she sank into the chair. The rest followed suit and sat facing her.

"Well, you already know, it's not good. He's lost a lot of blood, but he's stable now. The next 48 hours will be critical. He's young and strong, and he's a fighter, so his chances are good, but of course, there are never any guarantees. You never know how the body will react to any kind of trauma, and there's a good chance that he'll develop some kind of infection. I understand that the rough handling was necessary," - at this Ford blanched, and buried his head in his hands - "it was necessary to get him out of there, and fast," she told him kindly, "he was losing blood and going into shock; but it didn't help his injuries. There's a lot of inflammation, and there's a good chance of an infection developing. I've put him on antibiotics, and we're giving him blood, but now we just have to wait."

She looked at them. She wished she could be anywhere else right now, living someone else's life, and didn't have to sit here and say what she had to say to these people. Everyone liked Lucas, herself included. They'd had many good conversations about science and medicine, and even though it was a military vessel now, and not for scientific research, they'd managed to work on a few experiments together. It was impossible to work closely with Lucas and not like him. His intelligence was astounding, but in many ways he seemed so young, so much like a child. He always tried so hard to please everyone. She hated herself for even thinking it, but she wished the patient in the next room was anyone but him.

"There was damage to his spine. We've done everything we can, but...," she swallowed. She really didn't want to say the next words. "While we can't know yet the full extent of the damage, we know enough to say that while it's possible that he'll make a full recovery, it's not probable."

Captain Hudson interrupted. "What exactly are you trying to say?"

She sighed. "There's a chance that he may never walk again. Certainly he won't be walking again any time in the next six months, probably more. And even with the treatments that we have now, it's certain that he will always have some problems with mobility."

The silence in the room seemed to last forever. She could see from the faces of the people who had been with him when he was hurt that they had all considered that as an outcome, but the others were stunned by the news.

Hudson, ever practical, broke the silence.

"What happens now?"

"For the moment he's stable. If he gets through the next 48 hours, he'll be out of immediate danger, as long as he doesn't develop an infection. He's going to be in a huge amount of pain, and he's going to be stuck in that bed for a long time." She saw Hudson about to interrupt, and suddenly felt very annoyed with him. "And no, I don't know for how long! They don't have industry standards for teenage boys suffering a life shattering injury!"

Everyone looked shocked at her outburst. She was a doctor, she was meant to remain calm no matter what the circumstances.

"I'm sorry." They nodded in understanding. "Let's just get through the next 48 hours, okay?"

Tim looked at her sympathetically. "Can we see him? Can we wait with him?"

"I don't want too many people crowding around him, but I think it would be great if you could take turns and sit with him, perhaps talk to him. Sometimes just hearing a friendly voice will help." She paused. "I don't expect him to regain consciousness any time soon, but when he does come around, don't tell him of our concerns, stay vague, we don't want to worry or upset him at this stage, it's still too early to know anything for certain."

Again, they nodded. Tim asked, "Can I sit with him?"

Everyone nodded, knowing that of all of them he had known Lucas longest, and perhaps better than any of them. To their surprise, Hudson stood up.

"Just a moment, I'd like to see him first." At their surprised looks, he snapped angrily, "I'm not a complete monster!"

Doctor Perry accompanied him inside. Lucas lay on the bed, looking impossibly young and childlike. It didn't help Hudson's feelings of guilt. He was hooked up to a ridiculous number of tubes and monitors with an oxygen mask over his face. He looked as pale as a corpse. Even if Hudson had been a betting man, he wouldn't have put a nickel on his chances as they looked now. He hoped that on this occasion, he was wrong.


	5. Chapter 5

They took turns as their duties would allow. Hudson was at least trying to accommodate them as much as possible, as did the rest of their crewmates, but there were just some things that just couldn't be changed around, and the Captain insisted that they had to get some sleep. After Tim, it would be Lonnie, after Lonnie, Dagwood, after Dagwood, Tony and after Tony, Jonathon. Nobody suggested that the Captain might like to take a turn.

Tim sat there first. He almost couldn't bear to look at his friend, lying there so pale and vulnerable. They'd been friends for so long and been through so much together, that he often forgot Lucas' age (sometimes, indeed, Tim's naivete made Tim feel the younger of the two), but now it was impossible to look at him and not see that young boy he had met when they first joined SeaQuest.

Tim wished with everything in heart that it all could have stayed the way it was during that (as it seemed now) wonderful, halcyon period, but since everything had changed - and not for the better - Tim did the only thing that he felt he could do.

He dropped to his knees at the bedside and prayed with everything he had.

* * *

When Lonnie took over from him, there had still been no change, and he could tell that she was a shaken by the boy's appearance as he had been. As her eyes found Lucas on the bed, she looked almost as pale. Part of her - a large part - wanted to turn and run. She HATED hospitals, hated everything about them and wanted nothing more than to be anywhere else. But no, this was for Lucas, and she could do this for him.

Screwing up her courage, she pulled her chair closer to the bed, and in a supreme act of bravery (for a minute she had thought she wouldn't be able to do it) she lifted his cold, dry hand in hers. She tried not to think how much it was like touching a corpse, so icy and unresponsive. She swallowed and licked her lips, and with her hand holding his, she started to talk. When Dagwood came to take over from her, she could not have told you a single word she said.

* * *

When Dagwood came to sit with Lucas, he found Lonnie sitting with Lucas' hand in hers, talking softly to him, so when Dagwood took over from her, he, too, held his hand and started to talk softly. Dagwood didn't have much experience speaking softly, it wasn't something he generally needed to do. People wanted him primarily for his strength, not his softness. But he had heard Lonnie's hushed tones, and it seemed only right in this scary place, sitting beside his sleeping friend, to speak as quietly as he could. He felt the same way he had when once on shore leave Lucas had taken him to a library, and everyone around him moved and spoke so quietly that he had felt awkward and out of place with the noise of his loud footsteps and unnatural whisper (Lucas had called it a 'stage' whisper). He felt he wanted to be invisible and unnoticed in this fearful place.

He started to tell Lucas about his day, and then when he had told all he could about that, he moved on to telling Lucas about his dreams. He didn't know how much Lucas was listening to him, and some of the dreams were very silly, but he felt that Lucas wouldn't make fun of him for telling them to him. Talking about his dreams led him to think about Darwin, who appeared prominently in many of them. Dagwood was fascinated (a word Lucas had taught him!) by Darwin, and could talk about him for hours. Which was fortunate, because he didn't really know what else to talk about. He got so involved in one story about Darwin's exploits (another Lucas word!), that at first he failed to notice a slight movement from the bed. He looked down when he felt a slight pressure on his hand, the lightest squeeze.

"Lucas? Lucas, are you awake?"

Lucas' eyes fluttered, but stayed closed. Dagwood thought how odd it was, as if eyelids were heavy and couldn't be lifted.

"Lucas? Wake up, Lucas, we all want you to wake up. Darwin too!"

The sound was so soft that Dagwood barely caught it. "Dag...wo..." And that was all, Lucas was still and quiet again.

But Dagwood thought it was a good sign, and he continued to talk about Darwin for the remainder of his visit.

That's what he was doing when Tony arrived, holding Lucas' hand and talking about Darwin, in a tone that he probably thought was a whisper.

"Hey, Dagwood."

"Tony!"

"Why are you holding his hand?"

Dagwood looked surprised, and decided that in this, at least, he was the authority. "Lonnie was doing it, you're supposed to hold his hand. He likes it. He squeezed my hand, and nearly said my name!"

Tony looked surprised, and a little disbelieving. "Almost said your name? What does that mean?"

"He squeezed my hand and tried to open his eyes and said "Dag...wo..." Dagwood repeated, with a somewhat uncanny (and very believable) imitation of Lucas' breathy whisper.

Tony looked surprised and suddenly jubilant. "Hey, that's great! That's great! I mean, that's got to be a good sign, right? That's got to be a good sign!"

Swept up in the moment, he hugged Dagwood. 'That's got to be a good sign!" he repeated.

* * *

His excitement lasted until Dagwood left the room, and he got a good look at his friend for the first time. The smile died on his face.

He remembered when he was a boy and his mother had taken him to his uncle's funeral. The body had been laid out for viewing, and while his mother had been talking to his aunt, he had left her side and gone over to stare at the body. Looking at Lucas right now reminded him with horrible clarity of that day. He had nightmares for weeks. And now here was Lucas, still and bloodless, looking just like his uncle. And he knew that the resemblance would haunt his dreams once again for weeks to come, only this time it would be Lucas, not his uncle that lay cold and dead in that coffin.

He sat in the chair, still warm from Dagwood's presence. He was always very much a 'guys guy', and didn't really feel comfortable holding Lucas' hand - that was weird, right? But Dagwood wouldn't lie about something like this, and if that made Lucas feel better, then hell, he would do it.

He leaned forward and firmly took Lucas' hand in his. It felt cold and unpleasant, and he felt silly, but he would do it for his friend. He wanted his friend back. He didn't care what else was wrong, he didn't care if Lucas never walked again, just so long as he woke up again and he could have his friend back again, just so he could talk to him and bug him and tease him like he always did...

Then he realized what it would mean if Lucas couldn't walk. He couldn't stay on the seaQuest. There was no way he could make that work. The UEO wouldn't want to let him go, not with his talents, but they couldn't let him stay on a submarine. Even if his friend got better, Tony couldn't see how he would ever get to spend any time with him again. Tony was still signed up to work there.

He wondered what Lucas would do. Lucas never talked about his family, and after the first couple of times, Tony learned never to ask. But Lucas never talked about any other friends either. On their first tour, he'd occasionally mentioned his friend Ben, and Wolfman and Julianna, but since their return he'd closed up completely. Tony didn't know all the details surrounding his friendship with Ben, but after their last encounter with him Lucas never mentioned his name again, and a picture Lucas had of the two of them laughing together had disappeared from his wall. As for Wolfman and Julianna, well, it wasn't even worth asking, was it? They were now ten years older than Lucas, and had probably matured and got on with their lives. Heck, they could even be married by now.

Tony realized with a start that he'd been sitting there in total silence the whole time. The whole point was to talk to him, wasn't it? So he moved his thoughts to less depressing speculations and started to talk.

He kept up a steady stream of conversation about music and girls, and girls who liked music and girls who played music, and Elvis, and which were his favorite songs by Elvis and how he couldn't believe the girls who didn't like those songs because they were like, classics, man, when he felt it.

It was so light that he almost could have missed it, except that the hand in his felt so strange that he was very aware of it. He felt a light movement coming from that cold hand, and when he looked up he saw slits of blue peaking out from mostly closed eyelids.

"Lucas!" He almost shouted. He looked around, there was no-one in the room but the two of them. There had been a nurse on duty, but she must have slipped out at some point. He didn't care, Lucas was waking up, everything would be fine.

"Come on, Lucas, you can do it, c'mon..."

His eyelids seemed to open as if they were made of lead, and he looked exhausted. He tried to speak, but made an ugly rasping sound instead.

Tony ran across the room and filled a cup with ice chips. "It's okay buddy, I got this!"

He carefully moved the oxygen mask from his friends face and raising his head very slightly, and so gently that he might have been made from glass, placed a couple of ice chips on his lips. Lucas took a minute to allow the moisture to penetrate his dry mouth.

"Tony?" He rasped.

"Yeah, buddy, I'm here! How are you feeling? I'm so glad you're awake! I was so scared!" He was babbling and he knew it, but the relief of hearing his friends voice was making him feel almost giddy.

"'M so tired..."

Tony grinned from ear to ear, and replaced the oxygen mask. As he sat back down, he once more grabbed his hand and gave it a big squeeze.

"No problem, buddy, you sleep now. You get all the sleep you need." And grinning like he'd just won the Superbowl, Tony settled back and continued with his tales.

When Jonathon arrived for the next shift, he found a hoarse but triumphant Tony by the bedside.

"He woke, for a coupla seconds with Dagwood, and then for a minute or two with me!" Tony was beaming. "I gave him some ice chips," Tony wanted it understood that he had not lost his head, and had responsibly dealt with the situation, "and I asked how he was feeling, and he said he was tired and went back to sleep." His words were almost falling over themselves he was so eager to pass on the good news.

Jonathon looked down at the still figure. "Yeah, Tony? That's great," he said halfheartedly.

"Well, geez, try to sound a little pleased, couldn't ya? I mean this is great, right?"

"Yeah, it is. Really great." Ford tried to infuse his words with a little more warmth and enthusiasm.

"Well try and sound a little more positive while you're talking to him, he's not going to wake up for a Debbie Downer!"

Jonathon raised an eyebrow.

"And hold his hand!" Without waiting for an answer, and forgetting his own initial reluctance to be found holding his roommates hand, he grabbed Lucas' hand and thrust it into the grasp of Jonathon Ford, who couldn't have looked more uncomfortable if he'd tried.

"Okay, I'm beat. I'm going to bed." Looking over at Lucas, he shouted, "Night, buddy, see ya in the morning!" And with that, he left the room.

The nurse on duty suppressed a smile at Ford's look of discomfort and the uncomfortable way he seemed to be holding Lucas' hand above and away from him. He grimaced for a moment, and then conceded and pulled Lucas' hand down into his, as he sat back and sighed.

The nurse appeared next to him with two cups, one filled with ice chips, the other with water. "These," she gestured to the chips, "are in case he wakes up again, and this," she put down the water, "is for you. Mr Piccolo just about talked himself dry!"

She smiled and returned to her desk.

* * *

Jonathon looked at Lucas for a long time. He'd never seen the boy so still. He remembered as though it was yesterday - like it was a million years ago - when he'd first met the boy. He'd been so irritated, a civilian boy on his ship, running around like he owned the place, and so damn cocky. Jonathon had been told that his father was one of the donors, and he'd assumed that Lucas was one of those snotty rich kids (he was familiar with the type) that they were all going to have to pander to and look after. As it turned out, they didn't have to pander to him at all, he kept himself to himself for the most part, but they did end up looking after him a great deal. The boy seemed to have a gift for finding trouble. But they didn't really mind. He was well liked, and he worked hard and didn't want to cause trouble or get on anyone's bad side. Some of his escapades with Krieg had sailed a bit close to the mark, but Bridger generally managed to keep him in check.

In fact, he and Bridger had developed a deep bond with one another. Doctor Westphalen, too. They almost seemed like a family. Bridger often addressed Lucas as 'son', and whenever he did so, Lucas' smile lit up like a Christmas tree. Ford never knew the details of Lucas' family life - no-one wanted to press him for details and risk upsetting the boy - but they all deduced that, at the very least, the boy had never really been shown much love. So when Bridger all but adopted him, he glowed with happiness and reveled in the unexpected affection. Jonathon thought that was probably the happiest Lucas had ever been.

And then there was the World Power disaster, and everything changed. They all left on furlough while the new submarine was being built, and Bridger had been so busy redesigning and planning the new boat that he...well, kind of forgot Lucas for a while. Oh, he consulted him about a lot of the new designs and computer systems, and even invited him to his island a couple of times, but even then he was working such long hours that he rarely saw the boy except to consult with him about specs. Lucas never told anyone how he spent the rest of his time that summer, but Jonathon could give a pretty good guess.

Then it was announced that Doctor Westphalen wasn't coming back. And suddenly they were back on the boat, but it had changed, more militaristic, and new people everywhere, and that close family feeling just wasn't really there anymore. Bridger had new people to worry about, and less time for Lucas, and Lucas was seventeen now anyway, and they all sort of thought of him as an adult. Except when they didn't. Ford could recognize now that they expected him to behave like an adult and look after himself when it suited them, but still treated him like a child the rest of the time. Sure, he'd made a bit of a fool of himself with that girl Sandra, but he could see now how he must have felt, even then, as though everything was slipping away. Looking back, he wished things had worked out for the boy then and he could have made a life for himself off the seaQuest.

Because after that it was too late. In ten years, everything changed again, and the slender tread of hope that Lucas had left, the last gossamer thin belief that anyone could ever want him or love him, disappeared with Captain Bridger.

And now what would happen to him? If Lucas couldn't walk, or was incapacitated for any extended period of time, where could he go? Who would look after him if they couldn't?

As Tony had earlier, he realized that the whole point of this vigil was to talk and let him hear their voices, but he honestly didn't know what he could say. For all the time that he had known him, he really knew very little about him. To talk about their shared past on seaQuest seemed almost cruel, reminding him of better, happier times. And now, it seemed, it was only going to get worse. Again.

He did the only thing he could think of, and started talking about the seaQuest. Changes that could and should be made, innovations that had appeared during those missing years (he moved quickly on from that topic), things that still hadn't been invented but he wished someone would finally figure out, and lastly (and he was horrified to think how boring this conversation would be to anyone listening) all the things he had been studying for his upcoming review.

He was surprised when he saw movement from the bed. Lucas groaned and turned his head to look at him.

"Commander?" He looked confused. "Why are you holding my hand?"


	6. Chapter 6

While the others were sitting by Lucas' bedside, Captain Hudson decided he needed to call next of kin and inform them. Lawrence was dead, as they had proved only recently, the incident leaving a sour taste in Hudson's mouth. He had been furious that his own ensign had dared to pull a gun on him. If a small part of him admired the boys determination and loyalty to his father, then he would never admit it. He'd been ready to throw him off the seaQuest there and then, but his superiors had made it clear that they wanted Ensign Wolenczak there, working firmly on their side. The now retired Admiral Noyce had called all his contacts to ensure that not only would he remain on the boat, but that other retribution was not forthcoming (Hudson's second recommendation had been a lengthy stint in the brig). Despite everything that had just happened, Hudson's lips tightened just remembering it.

So, no father. But the boy still had a mother, as far as anyone knew, and she should be told.

He pulled up the boy's records. No next of kin was listed.

He spent a long time on the Internex trying to track her down. Ironically, he could really have used Lucas' help. Finally, he tracked her down. Cynthia Wolenczak, nee Holt, was now Cynthia Holt once more.

He stood before his vid-link to make the call.

When she appeared, he had trouble hiding his surprise. He had overheard a conversation once between Lucas and Tony, when Tony had been talking about how young his mother had been when she had him, and Lucas had - unusually for him - volunteered the information that Cynthia Wolenczak had been twenty-five when she had him. That was twenty nine years ago, and yet the woman that appeared on screen didn't look much over forty. She was, without a doubt, a beautiful woman. A lighter blond than her son, and eyes so blue that Hudson wondered if they were artificially colored with lenses. Remembering her sons light blue eyes, he decided they were natural.

As he looked closer, he could see the marks of age that surgeons could never erase - the neck and the hands were always tell tale signs of a woman's true age, his mother always used to say - but he still would guessed ten years younger.

He realized that she could see his admiration and was enjoying it. He also realized that he had been staring at the screen for about five minutes now without a word coming out of his gaping mouth.

He pulled himself back to the business at hand.

"Cynthia Holt?"

She smiled. "Yes."

"Lucas Wolenczak's mother?"

In an instant her smile was gone. He wouldn't have believed the change if he hadn't seen it happen in front of him. She looked at him coldly.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

"I'm Captain Oliver Hudson, of the seaQuest. Lucas was involved in an accident..."

She cut him off, asking dispassionately, "Is he dead?"

Even he was shocked by the ice in her tone as she asked. "No, but..."

"Then I'm sure he'll come out of it just fine, he always seems to."

Hudson wondered how she could think that being abducted by aliens and returned to earth the same age but ten years later was 'coming out of it just fine', but she was in full flow and wouldn't let him speak.

"Look, Captain Hudson, I'll tell you what I told him the last time we spoke. As far as I'm concerned, I lost my son ten years ago. I've made my peace with that and moved on. As far as I'm concerned, he's twenty-nine years old, he's an adult. He's no longer my responsibility, and I don't want to be contacted by either of you again, is that clear?"

Hudson stared at her in shock.

"Perfectly," he said, and abruptly switched off the link. He sat down on the edge of his desk. He'd always envied the boy a little - more than a little, if he was honest - a genius, raised by parents who had given him every advantage - a little neglectful, perhaps, but...well. Hudson certainly didn't have the best relationship with his father - to put it mildly - but he was at least sure that he would want to know if his son was injured, and his mother would never have left him hurt and alone if she could help it.

He felt sure that his next call would be more successful. After all, people were constantly telling him about the father/son bond between Nathan Bridger and Lucas. He was, if fact, tired of hearing it, and felt he could happily spend the rest of his life without hearing any more about the warmth and virtue of the sainted Captain Bridger. He had witnessed a few disagreements between the two of them, but he felt sure that they were just the occasional upsets in an otherwise idyllic relationship. In truth, he often wondered if part of his irritation with Lucas stemmed from the knowledge that everything he did and said was probably reported negatively to Bridger by Wolenczak.

There was no answer from the vidlink, though he let the call ring through for a long time. Finally, he gave up. He would try again later.


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's note - Got a little bogged down trying to do some medical research for this chapter, and then realised I was becoming to hung up on details. Trying to keep it realistic, but please excuse any errors. This is my first attempt at a fanfic, so I'd love to know if anyone's enjoying it. Also, this is a complete story, it just takes me a while to edit it and check my grammar (my spelling is appalling, and I'm trying to limit my use of exclamation marks!...Darn, there I go again!). Anyway, if anyone's with me, we're about a third of the way through._

* * *

Hudson hurried down to med-bay as soon as he received Doctor Perry's call that Lucas was awake.

He noticed Commander Ford standing discreetly to the side as Perry ran various tests and asked a million questions.

"How does he seem?"

"Okay. A bit groggy and dopey, but okay."

"Do we know anything yet?"

"No. She's run some tests, you know, blood pressure, temperature, all that stuff, asked him what he remembers, if he's in pain, that kind of thing."

"And?"

"He remembers pushing you out of the way, but nothing else. Doesn't know where or how badly he was hurt, apparently he's on some pretty strong painkillers."

"Maybe that's a good sign, maybe it's not as bad as we think."

"Maybe..." Ford didn't sound convinced.

"Well, I think it's about time for you to get some rest. First, though, I think the others would appreciate being updated on his condition, perhaps you could take care of that?"

Jonathon Ford knew when he was being dismissed. "Yes, Sir." He threw one more glance at the boy on the bed, and turned and left.

Hudson walked over to them. "Ensign, how are you feeling?"

Lucas looked up with drugged eyes. It seemed to take him a minute to place the Captain and register his presence.

"Sir..." His voice had a slur to it, and the Captain could see immediately what Ford meant about the painkillers. He was still out of it to a large extent.

"Captain Hudson, I'm glad you're here. I wanted to run some tests, could you help me a moment?"

Hudson felt uncomfortable. He didn't know what kind of tests she was going to run, but he felt sure he would not enjoy assisting. He wondered if this was Perry's way of punishing him.

"Of course, Doctor, how can I help?" he replied insincerely.

"Lucas, I want you to look at Captain Hudson while I run a few more tests. He's going to talk to you for a few minutes, and I want you to give him your full attention, okay? While you're looking at him, I want you to let me know when you can feel me do this." She took a small metal pin and lightly touched it to Lucas' finger. "Do you understand?"

Even in his muddled state Lucas began to look worried, "Okay..."

Those blue eyes - so like his mothers, but softer - turned to the Captain.

Captain Hudson was talking to him the whole time, maintaining his eye contact and telling him how his friends had been taking turns to sit by his bedside. It was nice to hear that they had all been there, but his head was so foggy that he could barely concentrate on what the Captain was saying. He kept drifting away. Because of that, it took a few minutes for him to realize that he hadn't felt Doctor Perry's test at all.

He interrupted the Captain. "When's she starting the test?"

The doctor walked over to his bedside and sat down beside the Captain.

"I'm finished, thank you Lucas."

His head was so muddled, and his thoughts so unfocused, but he had some idea of what was being done and why.

"Am I going to be okay?" He had no idea how plaintive his voice sounded as he asked that question.

"Just rest for now, we can talk about everything later, when you're more awake."

Unfortunately, now his fear was building and making him more alert. She realized that he was only going to worry more if she told him nothing.

Doctor Perry wished for all the world that she didn't have to tell this teenager what had happened, but she also knew that she couldn't leave it to Hudson. His clinical detachment was not what he needed right now. She leaned over and took his hand in hers. His eyes grew round with fear.

"Lucas...I'm afraid...," she took a breath and began again, "there was damage to your spine and legs. At the moment you're experiencing what we call spinal shock. It's basically when your body shuts everything down until it adjusts, so we can't tell how much damage was done. There were a lot of broken bones, and we know there's nerve damage. We just don't know how much."

"When will you know?"

"It varies from patient to patient, but usually it takes a few weeks."

"I'm going to be here for a few weeks?"

She looked into those clear blue eyes and hated her job, "I'm sorry, we'll know more in a few weeks, but I'm afraid that you're going to be out of commission for quite a while.'

He closed his eyes and bit down on his lip. Had he been younger, he would probably have cried, but now he fought down the tears. He would not cry in front of the Captain, whatever happened.

When he felt that he had himself under control, he said in a voice that only trembled slightly, "I'd like to sleep now, please." And he turned his head away from them.

* * *

The two of them left his bedside, both recognizing that he needed to be alone.

"Well," asked the Captain, "how is he?"

Doctor Perry walked over to her desk and gestured for him to sit. She reached into the back of the bottom drawer, and pulled out a small bottle of whiskey and two glasses. Hudson raised an eyebrow.

"I keep it for emergencies."

"That bad?"

"Bad enough."

She filled the glasses a quarter of the way, and pushed one over to Hudson. He picked it up and let the scent fill his nostrils.

"So? How bad?"

"His nervous system isn't able to transmit signals, so everything effectively shuts down. Once the body starts to recover, the signals start to return, and the patient will regain movement and sensation. We can't say for certain how much will return. He may be lucky, it certainly could have been a lot worse. A little higher, and he could have been..." she realised that she didn't even want to say out loud how much worse it could have been. "It could have been much worse," she repeated.

"Realistically, I don't see him walking again for quite a while, and there's still a probability that he may never fully recover from this. His right leg was pretty much crushed. We have a lot of things we can do now to repair the body, things that we couldn't even dream of only twenty or thirty years ago, and there are experimental treatments that may help him, but..." She took a sip of her drink, winced at the harsh taste, and then took a larger gulp. "I've seen injuries like this before."

Hudson also took a drink while he digested the news.

He felt bad for the kid, of course, and it wasn't just because of the guilt, he wouldn't wish this on anyone. But he was the captain of a submarine during wartime, and he had to make hard decisions.

"He'll have to go to a proper hospital, there's no way he can stay here."

"I know," she replied, her face stoney.

"We can't look after him on a military submarine. There is a war on."

"I said, I know."

"It's in your tone, Doctor," he stressed the word "Doctor". "What do you think we should do?"

She fired up at that.

"I think we should at least wait until he's well enough to be moved before we start talking about this, and I think you should try and sound less..." she fished for the right word, "less...phlegmatic, and a little more sympathetic about a boy that nearly gave his life for you!"

He looked at her coldly.

"I'm aware of the gravity of what he did."

"Are you? Because I don't care what his I.D. says! In there we have an eighteen year old boy who, because of one thoughtless moment of bravery, will soon be disabled, unemployed and homeless!"

"He won't be homeless, there must be someone...somewhere he can go..."

"Really? Have you heard him mention anyone in the past year? Does he ever mention going to see friends or family when he's on shore leave? Does he ever line up with the others to use the vidlink? How would he even make friends, he's been on the boat since he was fifteen. I know that he used to either spend his shore leave alone at home or on the island with Bridger and..." she seemed to deflate as she spoke, "and who knows what happened there." She paused, and finished her drink. "Does he know?"

Hudson shook his head, glad to be out of the firing line. "No answer. I thought I'd ask Lucas if he knows how to contact him."

"Damn. It would have been nice if we could have got him here."

"Yes. Yes it would." Hudson finished his drink in one movement, and stood up. "Maybe he's away from home. Doesn't look like Lucas is sleeping yet, I guess I'll go and ask him."

He walked over to the bed where the boy wasn't sleeping, but just lying staring at the ceiling.

"Ensign." His voice came out too harshly, and he was annoyed to see him jump a little at his voice. He tried again in a softer tone. "Lucas."

Lucas turned his head and looked at him. "Captain?"

"I was trying to reach Nathan Bridger."

At the name, Lucas once more turned his eyes to the ceiling and his face hardened.

"He didn't answer, do you know if there's another way to reach him?"

"No." He couldn't hide the slight tremor in his voice. "No, I don't know how to reach him. I've left a few messages, but so far, he hasn't got back to me. Maybe you'll have better luck, but I doubt it. His 'life is filled with so much more now'," - this was said in a tone laced with sarcasm. He closed his eyes. 'May I sleep now?"

"Sure. Sleep well, Ensign, and...try not to worry." He didn't know why he said that. In the circumstances, it was a ridiculous thing to say. Lucas didn't even acknowledge it and simply turned his head away.

He thought about what the boy said, and his bitter tone. 'His life is filled with so much more now...' where had he heard that before? He mused for a moment, and then suddenly realized. It was the last thing Bridger had said to Lucas as he left the seaQuest. He'd also promised to stay in touch, but it seemed that had been a lie. He wondered if the last time they had seen Bridger had been the last time the boy had spoken to him.

He thought about that phrase - 'my life is filled with so much more now...'.

Even at the time, he had thought it sounded a little dismissive of the relationship that he had shared with this boy, somehow implying, as it did, that their bond was just too shallow and insubstantial to be a determining factor in his life. Was there a way that anyone - not just Lucas - could hear that and not hear what was unsaid but implied? Because hearing it again from Lucas' lips, he could almost hear the rest of the sentence, 'my life is filled with so much more now...than you'.


	8. Chapter 8

When he next awoke, it was once again to find Tony sitting at his beside, this time with Dagwood sitting on the other side, and both of them were holding his hands.

"Hey," he croaked through dry lips.

Tony released his hand and grabbed a cup of water from beside the bed. Raising Lucas' head slightly, he placed the cup to his lips while he sipped.

"Thanks." He looked at Dagwood's hand in his, and then turned to Tony. "What's with all the hand holding?"

"Worked before, you seemed to like it when you were unconscious."

"How could you tell? I was unconscious!"

Tony could tell that Lucas was trying to keep things light, but couldn't help but hear how weak his voice sounded. He sat back down and lifted Lucas' hand again.

"We could tell. You liked it."

Dagwood jumped in, "You squeezed my hand! Lonnie said you hold someone's hand to let them know you're there for them, so I held your hand while you were sleeping, and you squeezed it!"

Lucas couldn't help but give a small smile.

"But I'm awake now, and I can see you're here for me!"

"So?" Tony teased.

"So it's silly and ..." he said the word he hated most "...and...childish."

"So make us stop," Tony taunted. He could tell that the words were a front, and Lucas really needed some comfort right now. He was prepared to pretend they were just doing this to rile him. He could feel the shaking of his friend's hand, and he would do whatever he could to make him feel better. "But you'll hurt Dagwood's feelings, isn't that right, Dagwood?"

"Yeah!" Dagwood squeezed tighter, and Tony saw Lucas wince.

"But maybe not that tight, big guy!"

They tried to make small talk for a while, but even Tony and Dagwood could see that he was exhausted.

"Look man, we should be going, let you get some shut eye." Tony stood up to leave and Dagwood moved to follow suit.

"No, please don't go!" He tightened his grip on Dagwood's hand, and looked at Tony with desperate eyes, "Please?"

"Luke, you can barely keep your eyes open!"

"I just...don't want to be alone right now...please?"

There was no way Tony would ever leave his friend if he was needed.

"Sure thing, man, no sweat!" He sat back down, and Dagwood, still with his hand held by Lucas, moved back into his seat again. "Let me tell you about this great chick I used to know back home, boy, that girl, let me tell you..."

He continued to talk as he watched his friend slip once more into sleep.

Doctor Perry came over to them. "You should probably go and get some rest, he might sleep for hours."

To her surprise, it was Dagwood that spoke up to argue with her. "No, Lucas asked us not to leave him alone, so we won't leave him alone."

Tony also raised an eyebrow, it wasn't like Dagwood to be argumentative. He pointed at the Dagger. "What he said."

Perry sighed. "Okay, but when someone else comes to see him, you have to get some sleep, alright?"

"Tim said he'll be down to see him in a coupla' hours. We'll leave then." He paused. "How is he, Doc?"

She hesitated for a moment. She didn't know if Hudson planned on making some kind of announcement or what she was expected to say to anyone who asked, but these were his closest friends, and right now he'd need all the support he could get.

She pulled up another chair and sat down beside Dagwood. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Tim walked into the med bay. Tony waved him over, and he also grabbed a chair. She smiled wryly at the sight of all the chairs circling his bedside.

"The doc was just about to tell us how he's doin'."

"He's in a pretty bad way. There's damage to his spine and legs. Some of the bones were crushed, and the nerves were damaged. Modern treatments are fairly effective, but they're not 100%. Even if they were, they still require time to work. It's unlikely that he'll be walking again anytime soon, and there's a good chance that he may never fully recover, that he'll always need a walker or a cane, and always feel some level of pain." She looked at the sadness on their faces. They had suspected it might be this bad. "It could be a lot worse, only a few years ago this kind of injury would have meant a lifetime spent in a wheelchair. There's still that chance for him, of course, but we have better hopes now, there have been a lot of advancements in this area." Who was she trying to convince, she thought, her or them?

She continued. "He's lost a lot of blood, and he was lying in less than ideal conditions. He's extremely weak right now, and there's a strong chance that he'll develop some kind of infection. He needs sleep and to build up his strength, and he'll need to fight harder than he's ever fought in his life. That's where we can help. We need to be there for him - offer him support, make sure he knows that there are people he can talk to, people who care for him."

There was silence as they digested this. In truth, they didn't need to be told, they were his friends and they were going to be there for him.

Whatever happened.


	9. Chapter 9

Captain Hudson had been considering the situation and wondering what to do, when the decision was taken out of his hands.

His vidlink rang through to his quarters, and he looked up.

"Admiral."

"Captain, we have a problem. Macronesian forces have broken through one of our lines, we need you to go and regain our position there."

"Admiral, I was just about to call you. There was an accident during our last engagement. Ensign Wolenczak was badly hurt, he's currently recovering in sickbay."

"Will he be able to return to his post soon?"

"No, I'm afraid it's not going to be so straightforward, he's..."

The admiral cut him off. "Look, we don't have time to waste, we need you there a.s.a.p. At top speed, you are three hours away from the nearest port. You will need to stop there to refuel and pick up supplies - I expect that to take no more than an hour. Then I expect you to be underway. I will make arrangements to have an ambulance pick up your crewman and he can recover in the UEO medical center there while you are gone. You can collect him again on your return."

"Admiral, I have never abandoned one of my crewmen!"

"Then this can be your first time! You are going into a war zone, casualties are to be expected, you are certainly not going to go with your medical team already distracted."

"Admiral, I will not..."

"Captain Hudson, this is not a recommendation, it is an order. Your crewman will be collected at the next port, where I am sure he will be able to receive a better standard of care than he would receive in a med bay on a submarine! Are we clear on this, Captain?"

Hudson knew there was nothing further that he could do. "Crystal clear, Sir."

The transmission ended. Hudson sank into his chair and rubbed his hand across his face. He knew the way everybody on the boat felt about the boy, and he was also well aware that many of those people felt he was unnecessarily harsh with him. How were those same people going to react when he told them that they would be dumping the boy at the next port and sailing off without him. For a minute, Hudson toyed with the idea of calling the admiral back and making him explain it to them. Then he could see for himself what kind of backlash Hudson would be facing when he told them. He'd consider himself lucky if they didn't mutiny or lynch him on the spot.

Taking a deep breath, he gave orders to proceed at full speed to the nearest port, and summoned his senior staff to the wardroom.

Their reactions were everything that he expected. Horrified, disgusted, angry...

Hudson ran through all the arguments. Lucas would receive a better quality of care in an actual hospital with proper facilities. Even Doctor Perry had to allow that this could be beneficial to him, that they would have equipment that the seaQuest didn't have. And the military staff couldn't deny that taking an injured crewman into a battle zone was not a good idea - he would be vulnerable during any kind of attack, and as they all knew, in times like these, during conflicts, space in the med bay could be at a premium. If there were casualties, the medical staff would be unable to tend to his needs, needing to prioritize immediate casualties.

Every single argument made perfect, logical sense.

But it didn't stop it from feeling very, very wrong.

Lucas' mother was mentioned, and they were horrified - if not surprised - that she wanted nothing to do with him. Then Nathan Bridger was mentioned, and this time there was very real surprise that he had been out of contact for some time and was unlikely to make an appearance in time to be able to help their ensign.

And nobody could think of anyone else who could look after him. There was nothing they could do.

There wasn't a person sitting at the table who couldn't imagine how their youngest ensign would feel about being shipped off and abandoned. Again.

But they had to concede the point. The UEO had logic and reasoning on their side, and all they had were...feelings. They all understood that they really had no choice in the matter, orders were orders, even if they didn't like them.

There were only two things left to discuss.

Who would tell Tony, and who would tell Lucas?

Commander Ford volunteered to speak to Lucas, he felt it would be better coming from a friend. Nobody stepped up to save Captain Hudson from breaking the news to Tony and Dagwood.

It didn't go well for either of them, but neither of them had thought it would.

Despite all of the carefully reasoned arguments, Tony and Dagwood were respectively angry and incredulous. When Hudson was thinking about this interview in his head, he had thought that convincing Dagwood would be fairly simple compared to the anger he felt sure would come from Piccolo. In reality, he found it a lot harder to argue against Dagwood's feelings than to parry Tony's angry protests. He could counter Tony's 'you can't do this!' quite easily (he could, he had to, and he would), but when faced with Dagwood's simple 'but Doctor Perry said he would need his friends', he found it hard to respond. It didn't matter, though. In the end, however much they argued, it came down to one thing. Orders were orders.

* * *

When Commander Ford had entered the med bay with Doctor Perry, Lucas was still sleeping, Tony and Dagwood at his side. Ford quietly told them to go to Captain Hudson's quarters, and then sat down beside Lucas. He looked up at the Doctor.

"Can I wake him?"

She tightened her lips in disapproval. "I don't see that there's any other choice. He wouldn't thank you if the first he knew about this was waking up in a few hours in a UEO hospital, with no explanation of how he got there. At least this way his friends will have a chance to say goodbye to him first."

Ford nodded. Perry moved away, enough to give them privacy, but close enough to be at hand if she was needed.

Ford put his hand on Lucas' shoulder, and gently shook him awake.

"Lucas."

Lucas woke up slowly, bleary and confused. "Commander?"

"Hey Lucas. How are you feeling?"

Lucas answered slowly. He knew that Commander Ford would not wake him up just to ask him how he was feeling. "Okay, I guess." It was an obvious lie.

He looked at Ford with dread. The commander looked nervous and uncomfortable, and Lucas felt a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. What could be worse than the news he'd received only a few hours ago, and what could make the normally so composed commander look so upset? How much worse could this day - was it a day? He had no sense of time right now - possibly get?

"Lucas, I'm sorry, I'm afraid I have some bad news."

Lucas just stared at him.

"We've been given an assignment. Our orders are to assist with hostilities at one of our borders. We're expecting a fight, and possibly heavy casualties. It would be...," he paused, reaching for the right word, "...irresponsible to take you with us."

Jonathon Ford would not have thought it possible that Lucas could lose any more color, but his face drained to a grey pallor.

"You're sending me away?" he whispered.

Ever since he had heard the diagnosis, he had thought this might happen, but he had expected that they would wait a little longer than this...

"Just until the dispute is settled! You'll be taken to a UEO medical facility at the next port. They'll have better facilities and equipment in a hospital, so you'll receive much better care than you would here, and we can collect you again when it's all over."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you collect me again when it's all over? I'll still be bedridden or in a wheelchair then. I don't think that's going to push me to the top of seaQuest's 'most valuable crewmember' list. Why would you bother picking me up afterwards?"

Jonathon felt as though he had sent the whole day running between emotional and logical arguments. It wasn't his specialty.

"Because you're one of us, you're one of the crew," was the best he could do.

Both of them knew how weak that sounded.

"Sure," said Lucas, resigned. "When do I have to leave?"

"We should be docking in about two and half hours."

Lucas was truly shocked at this. "Two and half hours?"

He couldn't even arrange his thoughts. He had sacrificed himself to save his captain, and they couldn't even give him a full day to say his goodbyes before they kicked him off the boat?

"What about my stuff?"

"Tony can pack whatever you'll need for a short stay," Jonathon wanted to make sure he understood this wasn't permanent. "Just let him know what you want to take with you."

Lucas nodded slowly. He looked ...

Jonathon tried to place his expression, and then it came to him.

He looked betrayed.


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's note - Warning - profanity!_

* * *

Lucas had been expecting something like this.

In truth, injured or not, Lucas was always expecting something like this. His parents had tried to get rid of him every chance they had, and even though he had really believed for a time that Captain Bridger had a real affection for him during their first tour together, he had been distant with him during the reconstruction of the second seaQuest. Although Lucas hadn't wanted to admit it, he had been a lot like Lucas' father - working hard, distracted, no time to spare for Lucas. Lucas had tried not to mind The destruction of the first seaQuest was caused by his father, and Lucas felt guilty as a result; but when they returned for their second tour something was - indefinably - different. There were other people to claim his attention, and Captain Bridger wanted to be a father figure to everyone, not just Lucas. With Tony and Dagwood also on the boat, Bridger wanted to include everyone in his new 'family' and Lucas started to feel, well, pushed to the side again. What was that saying, a friend to all is a friend to none? Well, it seemed that a father to all was a father to none. Bridger had less time for him. There were less cozy chats in his quarters, fewer displays of affection. Sure, Lucas was older, but he was still only seventeen, and he missed the way things had been.

When he met Sandra, it had seemed like a golden opportunity. For once, he could be the one making the break - he could leave first. He didn't have to wait and worry about the time when the Captain would decide that he didn't want him on the boat anymore.

But Sandra didn't want him either. He was just her passport to seaQuest.

And then there was Hyperion. When Bridger had made him leave the boat, just him and Dagwood. Everyone else could stay, but he had to leave. And no matter how much Bridger had argued that it was for his own good, he never quite believed it. It felt like a metaphor for his whole life. Everyone else together on the boat with him outside in a life raft. At least he'd had Dagwood for company.

When they got back, everything was different again, but to Lucas it felt like more of the same. He'd found the captain again, but the captain didn't want him anymore. He should have guessed - after all, Bridger hadn't tried to find him, even though the sudden reappearance of Lucas Wolenczak was all over the news. The captain had a new 'lost boy' to play father figure with, and he didn't have time for Lucas anymore.

Lucas felt as though he died the day the Bridger left. Standing on the deck, hearing for the first time with everybody else that Captain Bridger was leaving and never coming back. It was a physical pain in him, a tightness in his chest, he would have sworn he could feel his heart break into a million pieces as he stood there and tried to keep the mask of good humor on his face. Even at the grand old age of eighteen, he had to clench his jaw until it hurt to stop himself from crying with despair when the captain - his Captain - had left without a backward glance. Not a hug. Not even a private word.

The only explanation he had was that one cruel, dismissive sentence uttered in front of everybody else. 'My life is filled with so much more now'. The cruelty of that had ricocheted in his brain ever since. It didn't just end their relationship now, it casually negated everything that had gone before, that apparently hadn't been enough. Just too shallow and inconsequential. After all, he wasn't _family_.

'My life is filled with so much more now'. Well, fuck you too, Lucas thought, fuck you too.

So he signed on for military service. Four whole years, nobody could get rid of him before that.

Or so he had thought.

And now, here he was.

He didn't believe they would come back for him. Why would they? A wheelchair bound crewman would be no more use to them than a bedridden one, and he would be one or the other. It was a ridiculous idea. He wouldn't even be able to get into his quarters. No, this was the first step.

They would leave him at the hospital, and one assignment would turn into another, and there would never be a convenient moment to come back and retrieve him. He would be released from the hospital and have to try to start again somehow.

With no family, no friends, no job, no home and no knowledge of the world for the last ten years. Hell, even before they were taken to Hyperion he wasn't exactly worldly. He'd gone straight from the sheltered world of academia to the aptly named 'sequestered' seaQuest.

He'd be all alone.

More alone than he had ever been before. And he knew with a certainty that he couldn't bear that. It had always been his greatest fear, being unwanted. And now it had happened. He was going to be completely and utterly alone. No one in the raft with him this time, he thought. There was, finally, no one left.

And he knew what he would have to do.

* * *

After Jonathon left, a steady stream of visitors came to say goodbye. They all promised to try and complete their mission early so that they would back as soon as possible, and each time Lucas smiled, and said, yes, that would be great, he couldn't wait to see them again.

Tim looked miserable and uncomfortable. "None of us wanted to leave you, you know."

"I know," Lucas lied.

"It's just that orders are orders, and what else could we do? They were right, if anything happened you'd be in a dangerous position, you wouldn't be able to look after yourself."

"I know," Lucas said again, insincerely, "it's the best thing in the circumstances."

He could see that his friend felt bad, and none of this was his fault. "A hospital is the best place for me right now. I probably won't even notice, I'm so tired, I just want to sleep." That, at least, was true.

"We don't want you to think we're just dumping you." Trust the communications officer to be able to say what everyone was trying not to.

"No, I know," Lucas lied again. "I'll miss you though," he said, honest at last.

"I'll miss you too. We all will. Just try and get better while we're gone, okay?"

Lucas smiled affectionately. He really would miss Tim, he was his oldest friend. "Thanks. And take care yourself, okay?"

"I'll try."

Tim stood, ready to leave, and then bent down and hugged his friend. Lucas was surprised by the sudden display of affection from his usually dispassionate friend. His eyes suddenly filled with tears, and he hurriedly blinked them away.

"Bye, Tim."

Tony was next, simmering with anger. "We're gonna come back for you the minute we're done, you know that, right?"

"Sure, Tony," Lucas agreed.

Tony glared at him. "I may be stupid Lucas, but even I know you don't believe that."

Lucas looked down at his hands. "I believe you'd come back for me, Tony."

Tony knew what Lucas wasn't saying. "You just don't believe that the UEO will allow it."

"Why would they? Look at me."

Tony felt his anger rising once again. "This is bullshit! Bullshit!" He grabbed Lucas' face and made him look him in the eye. "We will come back for you, the captain won't leave you there, he won't."

The look in Lucas' eyes told him everything. Tony may have had complete faith in Captain Hudson, but Lucas hadn't. And the even if he had, the last captain Lucas had faith in had abandoned him, and he had thought of him as a son. Why would Hudson do more, when he felt less?

Tony sighed. He knew in that moment that he could not convince his friend. "We're coming back for you, Lucas. I promise, okay? You'll see."

Lucas smiled wearily. He was so tired. He wished he could sleep, but his time left on the boat was so precious he didn't want to waste a minute of it. "Okay," he conceded, "Thanks Tony."

The klaxon sounded and the order came, all hands on deck.

"I gotta go, okay?" He leaned over and hugged his friend, "But I'll be back...we all will!"

Dagwood came in last. Lucas had started to lightly doze, he was so tired. It took everything he had to force himself awake again.

"Hello Lucas."

Lucas smiled warmly at his friend. There was no point in making Dagwood feel bad, there was nothing he could do about any of this.

"Hey Dagwood."

"Everyone says you're going away, are you leaving seaQuest?"

"Yes Dagwood, I've got to go away."

"Are you sad?"

He avoided a direct answer. "It'll be a good chance for me to rest, I'm very tired," he said truthfully.

Dagwood looked ready to ask another question, but Lucas interrupted.

"Dagwood, would do something for me?"

"Sure, Lucas."

"Could you get me some paper - maybe a notepad - and a pen? Oh, and an envelope, a large one?"

"Sure, Lucas. Shall I get them now?"

"Yes please."

Dagwood returned a few minutes later with the requested items. Lucas looked around the med bay, they were alone.

"Could you help raise me up a little please, Dagwood?"

"Won't that hurt you?"

Lucas gave a wry smile. "Probably, but it's just a little. Just so I can write something, I can't write in this position. Could you put a pillow behind me?"

"Okay." Dagwood looked around and found another pillow. He gently placed one arm under Lucas' shoulders and raised him just enough to slip a pillow underneath. Despite the gentleness of the action, a wave of pain washed over Lucas that was so great he thought for a moment that he might pass out. He bit the inside of his lip hard enough to draw blood and dug his fingernails into his palms. Dagwood pushed the pillow beneath him, and the wash of pain lessened, leaving him shaking and nauseated. He swallowed back the nausea, trying not to let Dagwood see his discomfort.

"Water," he gasped.

Worriedly, Dagwood handed him the cup and helped to steady his hands while he drank.

"I'm sorry Lucas, did I do something wrong? Should I not have done that?"

"No, you did exactly right, thank you. I just need to write something." He paused. He didn't want to be alone now, not when he'd be losing everything so soon. "Will you stay with me Dagwood, while I write this? Would you mind?"

"Of course not Lucas, I'd be happy to stay. I'll just sit here."

"Thanks, Dagwood."

And he started to write.

In a little while, he was finished. He tore off the five pages he had just filled, and folded them into the envelope. He handed it to Dagwood.

"Dagwood..." How to put this so Dagwood would understand, but not comprehend? "If you hear that anything has happened to me, would you give this to Commander Ford?"

Dagwood looked worried. "Like what, Lucas?"

"Oh, I don't know," Lucas tried to smile. How could he say this, and yet not tell him anything? "Maybe I'll decide to go away and get some rest. I'm very tired, Dagwood, I want to rest." That was at least true. Lucas didn't like lying to Dagwood, it felt like taking advantage of him.

"Like a vacation?"

Lucas swallowed. "Something like that, yes."

"Okay." He took the envelope and put it in his pocket.

"And Dagwood? Would you say goodbye to Darwin for me? Tell him that I'll miss him, and I wish I could have said goodbye."

Dagwood nodded. Lucas wanted to do one more thing before he left. He gestured to the small cabinet beside him. "My things should be in that drawer, could you look for a small silver chain?"

Dagwood rummaged around in the drawer until he found it. "This?"

"Yes, that's the one." Lucas took it from him for a brief moment and looked at it. A lump came to his throat, and he felt tears again in his eyes. He blinked them away. "Captain Bridger gave this to me, it's a St. Christopher medal. He's the patron saint of travelers." He saw Dagwood's confusion. "It's meant to protect you from harm." He pushed away a thought that Bridger should have got his money back for that one. He tried not to think about the day Bridger had given it to him. "I'd like you to have it."

He pushed it into the daggers hand.

Dagwood looked at him, mouth agape. "For me? Why?"

"Because you're my friend and I wanted to say thank you."

"I'd be your friend anyway, and I don't have anything to give you."

"I know, I don't want anything. Just your company until you have to go. And I want you to have that. I want you to remember me when you wear it."

"Why would I forget you?"

"I don't know. People do forget." He tried not to think about the original giver of this gift, who had definitely forgotten him. "This way, you won't."

"Okay." He thought a moment. "Lucas?"

"Yes?"

"This place you want to vacation to?"

Lucas looked at him, wary. "Yes?"

"What's it like?"

Lucas paused for a minute, and looked at the St. Christopher in Dagwood's hands.

"It's a place where nothing hurts anymore."

And he closed his eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

Hudson meant to go back to the med bay and talk to Lucas one more time before he left, but events were now moving so quickly that he almost lost his opportunity.

The bridge was bustling with activity when Tim O'Neill called out to Captain Hudson, "Sir, I have a call from the docking bay, the ambulance has arrived for Lucas."

There was a momentary lull in activity as everyone looked at the Captain. Nobody was happy about it.

"Thank you, Mr. O'Neill. Tell them to wait, we'll be with them shortly."

He couldn't put it off any longer. Turning, he walked down to the med bay.

* * *

When he walked in, Lucas was dozing, with Dagwood sitting quietly in the chair beside him. They looked up as they heard him approach, and a shadow fell over Lucas' face.

"Ensign."

"Captain Hudson."

"I just got notification, they're ready for you at the docking bay."

Lucas nodded. "Thanks Dagwood. Take care, okay?"

"Okay Lucas, you too. Have a nice vacation!"

Hudson furrowed his brow at that rather cryptic remark, and he looked after Dagwood, puzzled.

"Where does he think you're going?"

"We were talking, he got a little confused."

There was an awkward pause. Hudson cleared his throat.

"I haven't had a chance to tell you...to thank you...for what you did. I froze, it was unforgivable. When you pushed me out of the way, you saved my life." He looked down at the bed. "At considerable cost to yourself, as it turned out. Thank you."

Lucas had already had a hard day, and his quota of good humor was running seriously short. He looked at Hudson's face, and couldn't help a snarky comment.

"Wow. That must have hurt."

Hudson allowed himself an equally snarky response.

"You have no idea."

"Well on the plus side, you finally get me off your boat."

"For what it's worth, Ensign, I have never considered you to be anything other than an asset to my crew. While a little more discipline, and perhaps a shorter haircut, could be desired," he allowed a small smile to take any sting out of the comment, "you have more than proved yourself as a capable and efficient officer."

Lucas was looking at him in disbelief. He'd never heard such praise from the Captain, and certainly never directed towards himself. He couldn't think of anything to say in reply.

Hudson's face turned serious again.

"You know that it was not my choice to leave you here."

He saw the boys eyes turn away and saw his face close off. He tried again.

"I've never before left a crewmember behind, and I don't like doing it now. We have our orders, and they are right - taking you into a situation like that would be irresponsible. But as soon as we are able, we will return for you. We are not leaving you behind."

Lucas looked at him and was surprised to see that he seemed sincere. He still didn't believe they would come back, but right now he thought that they, at least, believed it.

"Thank you Captain."

Doctor Perry came over. "Captain, I'm sorry, but we're running out of time, and the medics need to get back to the hospital."

"Okay, Doctor, thank you."

He looked at Lucas and, surprisingly gently, said, "Are you ready?"

Lucas was grateful to be asked. It made him feel that he had a measure of control over the situation. He nodded.

"My stuff?"

"Tony already has it in the ambulance."

"Okay."

Doctor Perry came over with a hypodermic syringe.

"It's almost certainly going to hurt when we move you, so I'd like to give you a shot first. It'll help with the pain, but I'm afraid it's going to leave you a little out of it, so if you have anything else you want to do or say, now's the time."

Lucas remembered how much pain he had felt when Dagwood had simply raised him up, and felt his mouth go dry.

"No, I'm okay. The only person I haven't had chance to speak to yet is you. I just want to say thanks. I know you've done everything you could, and...well...thank you."

She surprised all of them when she leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.

"You just take care of yourself, okay. Don't give me more work to do when we get you back."

Suddenly, it all seemed to hit him in a wave, and it was all he could do to hold it together. Hudson and Perry saw his reaction. She leaned over once more and pressed the syringe to his neck, and hugged him for a minute longer.

When she stood up, she could see the painkiller was already taking effect. His eyes were cloudy, and she saw the glint of tears on his cheeks. He seemed to be fighting to stay conscious. She heard activity at the door, and motioned to the medics to come in.

They pulled the gurney up to the bed and lifted him over. Even in his drugged state, they heard his moan of pain as they moved him, and then he simply passed out. They settled him on the gurney and wheeled him out of the med bay to the waiting ambulance.

Hudson and Perry started to walk with him, until first Hudson and then Perry were pulled aside to attend to the business of preparing for their departure. Even Dagwood was busy now, lifting boxes of supplies and moving equipment, so it was only Lonnie Henderson, supervising deliveries on the dock, that saw them wheel him out.

She motioned to them to stop, and ran over to the gurney. He looked so young and helpless lying there, and she wished with all her heart that they could keep him there and protect him. She leaned over, and then she, too, kissed his unconscious forehead.

Then they wheeled him over to the waiting ambulance and whisked him off into the unknown.


	12. Chapter 12

When Lucas awoke, he was in the loudest, shabbiest hospital he had ever been in. He seemed to be surrounded by dozens of people, shouting and running back and forth. Crash carts clattered across the floor, and he was one of many people that lay on gurneys in the hallways. The smell of the place made him want to vomit.

He was hooked up to an IV drip and a monitor, and he felt the uncomfortable pressure of a catheter. He looked around. People milled around, but his mouth was so dry that he couldn't make enough of a sound to be heard. The pain in his back was enough to discourage him from trying to raise himself up, so he lay there, hoping against hope that someone would see him and give him some water. When he drifted back to sleep an hour or so later, no one had noticed him.

* * *

The next time he awoke it was dark. A small nightlight lit a large room filled with beds. In complete contrast to earlier, it was now eerily quiet. Now and then someone would moan in their sleep and the sound would echo in the still room.

Despite the IV, he felt dehydrated and groggy, and turned his head to see if he could summon a nurse. He didn't see anyone, nor did he find a call button. He lay there, dry and uncomfortable. His head was fuzzy and he didn't feel any pain, which made him think that he was still quite heavily drugged. He tried to raise his head, but it seemed impossibly heavy. He fell back to sleep.

* * *

It was light when he next came to, bright, artificial lights that hurt his eyes. By now his thirst was almost unbearable. His eyes searched the room for a nurse - anyone - and met the eyes of the man in the next bed.

"Hey there, kid, need something?"

"Water?" He could barely speak.

"Sure. Give me a minute." He stood up slowly and made his way to the table beside Lucas and poured some into a cup for him. "Can you sit up?"

Lucas tried to push himself up, and fell back again as a wave of pain washed over him.

The other man observed his sudden gasp and loss of color. "No problem, stay where you are. We've got this." He called to a man nearby sitting on the end of a nearby bed.

"Hey, Jim, give me a hand here, will you?"

The man walked over and gently lifted Lucas as the other man placed a pillow beneath his shoulders.

He had only been raised a few inches, but the breath was knocked out of him for several minutes. When he had recovered himself, the man held the glass to his lips and he was finally able to take a few small sips. He had never thought water could taste so good.

"Thanks."

"No problem, son, what's your name?"

"Lucas."

"I'm Phil, and this is Jim."

"Thank you - both." He gestured to the pillow and the water. "Where are all the nurses and doctors?"

"Ah, you see, we're stretched a little thin here. It's just a small island, and up until a few years ago no-one ever even stopped here. Now, it's a important stepping stone for the military and we've had nothing but skirmishes for the past year or so. They've really got bad in last few months, but they only have the one hospital to serve the whole area. There aren't enough medical staff to look after everyone - no-one wants to come and work here because of the trouble - so they have to try and scrape by with what they've got. Patients like Jim and me help out where we can. What happened to you?"

"I got hit by some falling concrete. It hit my back and my legs. I was on the seaQuest, but they had to leave and they sent me here to recover." He looked around him doubtfully, a look that was shared by the others.

Jim joined in the conversation.

"Seems like they could have done their homework a bit better. Can't help thinking you'd have been better off staying with your ship until they could get you somewhere better."

Phil grimaced at Jim's tactlessness and tried to change the subject. "I've heard about the seaQuest, pretty fine by all accounts - what do you do there?"

"Chief computer analyst."

"That's impressive, you look pretty young! How old are you?"

Ever since he had got back, Lucas had no idea what the correct response to that question was. His i.d. said he was twenty eight, but no one believed it, even though it was the truth. He still only felt eighteen.

"It's a long story."

"Well, we look forward to hearing it, don't we, Jim?" He smiled at the boy, and noticed him rubbing his temples. "Headache?"

He nodded.

"That'll be the drugs. They like to keep you fairly doped up so you're not in any pain."

"And because it's easier to look after you if you just lie still and quiet," griped Jim. It earned him another disapproving look from Phil.

"Do you want any more water?"

"No, thank you."

"Think you could sleep again? Might help with the headache..."

Lucas still felt exhausted. He nodded.

"Okay, we're going to move that pillow again, probably better for you to lie flat if it's your back that's hurt. Are you ready?"

He nodded again.

"Okay, here goes..."

And this time, when the pain washed over him, he passed out with it.


	13. Chapter 13

_Author's note - warning - this chapter deals with suicide._

* * *

The days seemed to pass in a haze. He had more conversations with Jim and Phil, as well as others, although he couldn't remember their names. He realized that Jim had probably been telling the truth about keeping them drugged so they wouldn't be any bother. He was so tired that he mainly slept, and when he was awake his brain was foggy and confused.

A couple of times he was more alert, and he got the impression that they had simply forgotten to give him his medication. On those occasions, he told his new friends about the seaQuest and their adventures, and even told a much modified story of their abduction, since it seemed ridiculous not to able to know how old you were.

Phil and Jim had no doubts on that score.

"If you were eighteen then and only aged a week, then you were eighteen when you got back. Stands to reason."

Others in the room disagreed. "Don't be ridiculous! If he was born in 2004, then he's twenty eight, just like his i.d. says he is."

"Now who's being ridiculous? What if he had been eight instead of eighteen? You wouldn't treat him like an eighteen year old, would you, he'd still be a little kid..."

The discussion raged around the room for days. There was very little else to do or think of, and this gave them something to keep their minds engaged.

* * *

Finally, Phil approached Lucas' bed. "We've reached a consensus."

It was one of his "foggy" days - just as he sometimes suspected that they forgot to give him his medication, sometimes they overcompensated and gave him too much. It took him a minute to realize what they were talking about.

"What con..shen..shush?" he slurred, gazing at the double image of two Phils, and trying to merge them into one.

"Damn boy, how much medication have they got you on?" Phil looked at him worriedly. "Jim, see if you can find a nurse." He waved his fingers in front of Lucas. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Lucas tried to follow the movement of his hand and couldn't. Phil sighed and sat down on the edge of his bed. He decided to just carry on talking to the boy until they found a nurse or he fell back to sleep.

"It was decided that Jim and me, we're right. You should tell people that you're eighteen. We've decided that in every real sense you're eighteen."

Lucas giggled, something that would have horrified him if he had been in his right mind.

"Actually, you're wrong again!"

Phil looked at him questioningly, but without much hope of hearing anything that made sense.

Lucas grinned, "My dad lied about my age to get me into school even earlier, I'm actually only seventeen!" He put his finger to his lips, "Shush, it's a secret!"

Phil barely had time to register this when Jim came up with the nurse, who, on seeing the state of the patient, slowed down the steady drip of the drugs through his IV, and Lucas, now more sleepy than high, once again drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Jim pursed his lips and looked at Phil. "Like eighteen wasn't bad enough! He's still just a damn child!"

Phil could only shake his head. He had a nephew who was seventeen. He liked video games and skateboarding and eating pizza with his friends. That's what life should be like when you were seventeen. At seventeen, you shouldn't be lying alone in a military hospital drugged out of your mind.

It just wasn't right.

* * *

When Lucas next woke up, it was a bad day. He suspected they had forgotten his meds for a couple of days, and he felt sick and jittery, and somehow hot and cold at the same time. His teeth chattered and he was sweating, and he felt aches and pains all over his body, not just where he was hurt.

Phil was actually - wonder of wonders - being seen by a doctor, so Jim sat with the boy and tried to take his mind off his discomfort. Even though he was suffering physically, his mind was clearer than it had been since he had arrived.

"Jim, what's wrong? Why are they doing this?"

"It's okay Lucas, they just got your meds a little out of whack. Once Phil comes back we'll find someone who can give you something, okay?"

"But why am I still on an IV? Shouldn't I be eating now, and start moving about? What's going on?"

Jim was conflicted. Phil always tried to see the best of everything, and he liked the boy and didn't want him to worry. Jim had always believed it was better to know what's going on. Especially now, thought Jim, since he suspected that the Doctor was about to release both of them and send them back to their units. Then the boy would be on his own, and he deserved to know the truth.

"Lucas, they don't have the time or resources to help you to get better." He could tell by the boy's face that he had suspected what he was about to tell him. "Phil and I, we have the sort of injuries they can treat relatively easily. They can fix us up and send us on our way, and I suspect their getting ready to do that. Lucas, your injuries are too severe for this place. They have no way of treating you. Even if there wasn't a war raging around us, they would have had a problem looking after you with the resources they have here, but now? The IV gives you drugs and the nutrients essential to keep you alive. They can't start you on a regular diet, who's going to have time to help you go to the bathroom? And you know they don't have anyone to help you with physical therapy. All they can do is try to keep you in a kind of 'stasis' until things quiet down enough to move you to another hospital, but it's going to be a long time before that will happen. Look around you. Some of these guys have been here for months, and they're probably never getting out of here. Everyone just forgot about them."

He suddenly realized that he'd gone too far. "Lucas, I'm sorry, I didn't mean you, I didn't mean that you'd been forgotten."

Oddly, Lucas smiled at him.

"Of course I've been forgotten. Phil isn't here, and we're both realists. The UEO's top military submarine is not going to return to collect one crippled crewmember for months of rehabilitation so he can roll around their hallways in his wheelchair. I'm not a fool. I just want to know what will happen to me next."

Jim faced him squarely and told him the truth.

"This is what it will be like every day. Nothing's going to happen next."

And Lucas knew that he spoke the truth.

* * *

Phil and Jim were released back to their units the next day, and Lucas was once more on his own. When he was heavily drugged, he didn't mind at all, slipping in and out of reason and sleeping the day around, but when he was clear, he was aware once more of how vulnerable he was.

Others had been released at the same time - one of their 'purges', someone said - and now there were no able bodied people in the ward to help out. Suddenly dehydration became a very real problem for him, and the sudden influx of less mobile people who needed more treatment meant that the nurses were spread even thinner. Catheters weren't always changed when they should be, and sometimes the IV's would run dry. The drugs became even more sporadic. If he didn't take action, and soon, he would slowly wither away and die in this place, and he couldn't imagine a worse end.

He had made his resolution on the seaQuest, and had only been hampered so far by his drugged state and lack of mobility. Deciding to end it all was a lot easier if you could just get up and walk to the medicine cabinet. Even swallowing pills would be hard in his recumbent state. Two weeks (had it only been two weeks? It felt like a lifetime...) of lying still in this bed had made it harder for him to move, his body was so stiff and painful. Still, he had been laying his plans, and he was ready now.

Since he had arrived, he had made it a point (when he was lucid enough) to ask every nurse he saw for a pill for his headache. A sleeping pill would have been preferable, but redundant, since they were drugging him 24/7. He guessed, correctly, that the nurses wouldn't have time to discuss such trivial requests with each other. Complaining of a headache wasn't hard, he had one constantly. Not taking the pill when he had it, was.

Each time they gave him a pill he hid it in his pillow case - pretty safe, he reasoned, because he had never seen anyone change a bed unless it was for a new patient, and even then, not always. He had some idea of what the pills were, and knew that it wouldn't take a huge quantity to do the job. He had lost a great deal of weight, and he had never been that big to begin with. On top of that, his physical state was severely weakened. It didn't take long for him to amass a quantity that he thought would work.

On the evening of the final day, he once again asked the nurse for a pill, and this time he asked her to raise him up a little so he could drink a little water. She did so, but roughly, in her haste to move to the next patient that was calling for her. The pain as she jostled him into position almost made him cry out, and he bit the side of his cheek to try to keep quiet. This wasn't her fault, she was trying her best in an impossible situation.

He held onto the cup of water while she walked away, and then carefully pulled the pills from the fold in his pillowcase, and swallowed them down. Then, he closed his eyes and waited for oblivion.


	14. Chapter 14

The battle for the border territories had been long drawn out for the seaQuest, but after three weeks of fighting an enemy that seemed to be able to hide anywhere and everywhere, they were finally able to declare victory.

Hudson and his crew breathed a sigh of relief as they realized their work was done. It hadn't even been that bad, just long and drawn out. Even casualties had not been as bad as they originally expected.

The dispute itself was resolved, but one particularly lucky hit from one of the attackers had crippled their engines and left them dead in the water. Also, since they had arrived, their communications had been blocked by interference from somewhere, and they still had to find whatever was causing it and destroy it. The engineers were working hard on the repairs, while the others made sure that their stations were in perfect working order.

Most things were working well, but a lot of the computers were getting a little 'glitchy'. While they had other computer techs on board, they didn't have Lucas' skill or his feel for the computer system, and nothing seemed to be working as well as it should.

* * *

Tony was surprised by how much he was missing Lucas.

They were friends and roommates, close in age, and though they were very different in temperament, they'd developed this weird friendship. Lucas tried to pull Tony back from some of his more 'imaginative' plans (his words), and Tony tried to get Lucas to remember how to be a kid sometimes and be stupid. He thought of Lucas as a younger brother. An annoying, nerdy younger brother, sure, but still.

Even with the way he'd been behaving recently and his superior 'I'm an officer and better than you' attitude, Tony could see the insecurity that lay behind it and felt protective of him, rather than resentful.

He hated going back to their quarters and knowing he wasn't going to be there, frowning over Tony's music or his constant interruptions. He missed his quiet presence.

Of course, so did everybody else, he knew that. People were constantly saying, 'oh, Lucas needs to fix this', and then suddenly stopping, remembering, but they didn't have to be here in this room, surrounded by reminders of him.

So, he was doing everything he could to get this mission over with so that they could go back and collect him a.s.a.p. He knew Tim felt the same way - after all, they'd been friends much longer, since the seaQuest's first tour - and so he and Tim, and Lonnie too, when she found out what they were doing, were trying to find the device that was blocking communications. If they could at least call the hospital and speak to him, that would be something. And then, when the engines were up and running again, they could go and get him and bring him back here.

Where he belonged.

He knew - everyone who had visited him before he left, knew - that he didn't believe they'd be back for him. But Tony had faith in Captain Hudson, and if Hudson said they'd go back for him, then they would.

He put on his breather and fell back into the water. He, Tim and Lonnie had spent all last night working on possible locations of the device, and they'd come up with five or six possibilities.

He checked the first three places with no success, and then - miracle of miracles! - as his Aunt Mary used to say, there it was, hidden in a small cave in the fourth place they'd marked out. He whooped with joy, but still remembered to check that there were no booby traps around the device, before he took it back to the seaQuest.

* * *

"Good work, Piccolo." Hudson almost smiled. "Now let's destroy this thing once and for all."

"Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir!" And then remembering, "O'Neill and Henderson worked on this too, they told me where to look."

"Then good work, all of you."

Tim looked up in surprise. For Hudson, that was practically gushing.

Henderson opened the back of the device, looked for a moment (taking it slowly, checking for traps, Tony thought), and then pulled out a handful of wires. It hissed and sparked and died.

Instantly, the communications screens fired up.

"Communications up and running, Sir!" Tim called out.

"Good work, all of you. Anything I should look at?"

Tim was frowning at the screen.

"There are a few requests for our status, Captain, and two messages...," he paused and swallowed, as if preparing for bad news, "with the subject line 'Lucas Wolenczak'."

Everyone on the bridge fell silent, the previously happy atmosphere disappearing instantly.

"Are they from the hospital?"

"No Sir, but they are from the island."

He debated watching the message privately in his quarters. He looked around, and saw that the only people on the bridge right now were the people closest to Lucas. If it was anything important, he would only have to share it with them again later.

"Play them, Mr. O'Neill."

A picture flashed up of a soldier, dark skinned and middle aged, with greying temples.

"Hey, you don't know me, but I know Lucas. We met in the hospital. Look, I don't know if you want to hear this or not, but you should get your boy out of there. It's not a good place for him, they won't be able to look after him there." He waved to someone behind him, and shouted 'just coming!' He turned back to the screen. "Sorry, I gotta go, we're shipping out!" And he ended the transmission.

Hudson's face was impossible to read. "Play the next message."

Another soldier appeared on the screen, a little younger, and when he spoke he had traces of an English accent.

"Hey. My name's Jim Matthews, I was in the military hospital with Lucas Wolenczak. If anyone there cares one iota about that boy, you need to get him out of there as soon as you can. They can't treat him there, so they won't try. A couple of us have been helping him up till now, but we've all been put back on duty, so now he's on his own and things are going to get bad."

He seemed to be deciding whether or not to say something more.

"Look, he's a smart kid and he knows the score. I don't think I'm wrong, but I've been watching him, and I think he's going to get out his own way as soon as he can do it. I hope you can do something, he's a good kid. He doesn't think you're coming back for him. It'd be great if he was wrong." He moved to turn off the transmission, and then thought again. "Oh, and if you do get him out, you might want to ask him how old he really is. Okay, 'bye." And with that, the message ended.

Hudson had heard the phrase 'sick with worry", but he never really understood it until now. Everyone on the bridge looked sick to their stomachs, their faces under the artificial light looked green. All eyes stared at him.

"Okay people, those engines are going to be up and running by tonight. Any volunteers?"

Everyone stood up.

"Sorry, O'Neill, we need to have someone on the bridge." When it looked like he would object, Hudson added, "I want you to contact the hospital and tell them we're on our way to collect him. If you can, speak to Lucas himself and let him know. Alright, let's go."

* * *

As they walked away, Tony asked, "What did he mean, Lucas is going to 'get out his own way'?"

Hudson exchanged a glance with Ford, who looked down.

Henderson also looked confused, "Do you think he's better? Planning to get himself released?"

Hudson did not need this conversation right now. "It doesn't matter, right now we have work to do."

Seeing that they weren't quite ready to let it drop, Ford interrupted with, "The Captain's right, it's like that comment, 'ask him how old he is?' He seemed to be trying to be cryptic, we shouldn't worry about it right now. When we see Lucas, we can ask him what he meant."

It was hard to fault his reasoning, so they nodded and got to work. Once word got around that Lucas was in trouble, everybody went down to help, even Dagwood and Doctor Perry.

The trouble came when Dagwood bent to move some parts out of the way, and Tony noticed the St. Christopher around his neck.

"What's this?"

"It's a St. Christopher medal. Lucas gave it to me."

Tony reached out for it, thoughtfully.

"Captain Bridger gave him that. One time it was lying on his nightstand and I accidentally knocked it off. He went ballistic. Told me never to touch his stuff again."

Tim entered the engine room just in time to hear this exchange. He walked over and looked at the medal.

"He loves it. As far as I know, he's worn it everywhere ever since the Captain gave it to him. Why did he give it to you?"

They were starting to realize what it might mean.

"He said he wanted me to remember him. And I think he wanted to thank me for getting him paper to write his letter."

They all froze at that.

"What letter, Dagwood?"

"The day he left, he asked me to get him some paper and a pen and an envelope, and he wrote a letter."

"What did he do with the letter?"

Dagwood looked puzzled by the interrogation.

"He gave it to me, and asked me to give it to Commander Ford if I heard that he went away." Why were they looking at him so oddly? "He said he might be going away cause he was tired. Like a vacation, he said."

Comprehension dawned on Captain Hudson as he remembered that last remark that Dagwood had made - 'have a nice vacation!' Why hadn't he thought more about it at the time?

"He said he was going to a place where there was no pain. I thought that sounded like a nice place."

There was no longer any doubt left in anyone's mind just where Lucas was planning to go.

Tony spoke first.

"Come on, we gotta get this done quickly." And he went back to work.

"O'Neill, what are you doing down here? I thought I asked you to stay on the bridge!"

"Yes sir, I just wanted to let you know. I tried contacting the hospital, I just keep getting sent to their messages. I'll keep trying, but so far it doesn't look like there's a way to contact them."

"Okay, thank you, Mr. O'Neill. Carry on and let me know if you have any success."

* * *

He was proud of their dedication as they worked through the afternoon and evening. Doctor Perry went to get sandwiches and water for everyone as they worked, and though he wouldn't have believed it to be possible, by 3am the engines were once more up and running.

No-one wanted to stop and rest, no-one wanted to delay another minute.

At the fastest possible speed, they set off for the island.


	15. Chapter 15

_Author's note - Many, many thanks to TheLadyBath for being my first reviewer ever!_

* * *

It took them four hours at full speed to return to the port.

"Look, I know that you all want to go, but this is still a military submarine and we still need to have people here. I will be taking Doctor Perry, Mr O'Neill, Mr Piccolo and Dagwood. The rest of you will wait here and we will let you know as soon as we have any news, is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir."

They trusted him. When one of their own was in trouble, he had pushed up his sleeves with everybody else and moved heaven and earth to get here as quickly as possible. They couldn't ask for more than that.

The party left the boat, and it didn't take them long to find the hospital. They stood for a moment outside and stared at it.

Plaster crumbled from peeling, mossy walls, while the front of the building read 'St. Br ndo 's N val osp tal", the letters long ago having fallen away. They climbed up the crumbling steps and walked inside.

The inside of the building was no more prepossessing. The bad lighting (even though it was still full daylight outside, it was dark and shadowy inside) didn't hide the damp walls and the gurneys lining the hallways.

Worse than all of this was the smell. Captain Hudson and Doctor Perry recognized that smell and exchanged a glance. The others smelled decay and putrescence, but they recognized the unmistakable smells of old blood and death.

One woman sat at a desk in the small foyer.

"Can I help you?"

"We have a crewmember that was admitted here temporarily, and we're here to collect him."

"I'm sorry, visiting hours are over for the day. You can make an appointment to speak with your crewmember tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, perhaps you misheard. We are not here to visit him, we are here to collect him."

"Has he been approved for duty?"

Doctor Perry stepped in, "I think that's unlikely. We were ordered to leave him here while we left on an assignment, and now we are back to take care of him ourselves."

"I'm sorry, but patients can't be released without the doctor's approval and UEO orders."

"Get the doctor here, now."

"I'm sorry, the doctor is unavailable right now. I can make an appointment for you."

Hudson had put with this long enough.

"Do not make the mistake of thinking this is a request. I am Captain Oliver Hudson of the UEO flagship seaQuest. Right now, I AM the UEO, and I want to see my crewman NOW!"

Captain Hudson in full military site was an impressive sight, and when both Tony and Dagwood moved forward to flank him, she decided to comply.

"What's the name of your crewman?"

"Lucas Wolenczak."

She looked at him blankly, and he cursed under his breath.

"W-o-l-e-n-c-z-a-k, Wolenczak, Lucas." Just to be on the safe side, he added, "L-u-c-a-s."

She bit her lip in concentration as she searched for him. Then her brow cleared.

"Ohhh. I'm sorry, Sir, he was moved to the Psychiatric ward six days ago."

"The Psychiatric ward?" Doctor Perry questioned. She looked incredulous.

The receptionist wrinkled her nose and dropped her voice into a fake whisper. "It says here he tried to kill himself!"

They had all suspected - except Dagwood, who looked confused - but hearing the words aloud made Tim want to vomit.

"What happened? Is he alright?"

She scrolled down the report. "It says here that he took a bunch of pills. They reacted with his medications and he started to vomit. The guy in the next bed heard him choking and shouted for a nurse. They pumped his stomach and got it all out. But they moved him to the Psych ward where he can be monitored."

"Where is it? I want to speak to the doctor on duty!" Perry demanded.

"The Psych ward is on the third floor, he's in room 3, but there's no doctor on duty right now."

Perry had been ready to walk away, but came back to look at her. "I thought you said they were monitored in the Psych ward?"

"Well, yes..." She gestured to a bank of fuzzy video screens, "and of course, they're all restrained."

They didn't wait to hear any more. Taking the stairs two steps at a time, they ran to the third floor. Tony spotted it first.

"Room 3, here." Without waiting, he flung open the door.

And wished he hadn't.

It smelled. Really, really, bad. It smelled like damp and sweat and human waste, and it seemed to burn his nostrils the minute the door was opened. He saw the others recoil in disgust. Oddly, it was Tim that pushed past him and started to walk down along the beds to look for Lucas.

"He's here!"

They rushed over, and stopped for a moment in shock. He looked like death. His face was grey, and his cracked lips had a blueish tinge. His skin looked powdery and dry. He'd lost weight - a lot of weight - and he reminded Tim of pictures he had seen of people who were starving. Though they stood over him, he was completely still.

Perry bent down and reached for his wrist. It was then that she noticed that both wrists were restrained in hard leather cuffs. A glance at the bottom of the bed showed that his feet were similarly bound. With an expression of disgust, she quickly undid his wrists and felt for a pulse. She reached up and checked the pulse at his neck.

"Is he..." Hudson trailed off. He hadn't moved at all during Perry's examination, and he was furious that they had arrived too late.

"No, he's alive. Just. I don't know what they've given him, he's catatonic. I can barely feel his pulse."

Just then, a figure came into the room. The doctor.

"You're not supposed to be in here."

"This is my ensign, I have every right to be here."

Perry broke in. "What have you done to him?"

"He's being restrained for his own protection, he's a suicide risk."

"He isn't even conscious! What did you give him?"

"We haven't got the manpower to be supervising these people, we barely have enough time and resources for the people who want to get better. We keep the Psych patients sedated and restrained for their own protection."

Tony couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"Seems to me there's nothing crazy about not wanting to be in a place like this." He turned to the Captain, "Can we get him out of here now?"

Hudson nodded. Turning to Perry, he said, "Can we move him?"

She nodded. "I don't think we could do any more damage."

To the doctor, she said, "We need a gurney and an ambulance, and I want all his medical records since he's been here."

"You can't do this, we need a release from the UEO."

Hudson stepped forward. "We can and we will." His voice was filled with deadly menace.

"Furthermore, if you or any of your staff get in our way, we will leave each of you in a such a state that my Ensign will look like he's been on a vacation in comparison, do you understand me? Good. You have five minutes - Tim, start counting. Gurney, medical records, ambulance - NOW!"

The doctor fled.

Tim bent down and released the straps holding his ankles. "He's ice cold!"

"I know. Let's just concentrate on getting him back to the seaQuest, and then we can worry about everything else."

Tim couldn't help but shiver slightly. It was like touching a corpse.

It took just over four minutes for the doctor to return with a gurney and a printed sheet containing his medical records. Perry gazed at it in horror.

"How many drugs do you have him on?"

"Pain relief and sedation are our primary concerns in cases like this," he replied sanctimoniously.

For a moment, Perry looked as though she was going to hit him, and then she turned back to her patient. "Tony, Dagwood, help me move him."

They lifted him carefully and placed him on the gurney. He felt lifeless and still, not even a twitch. Tony wasn't convinced that he was still alive.

"Okay, let's go," she ordered.

They started to move out of the room towards the elevator. As they were leaving, Tony turned to the doctor.

"You deserve to be beaten to a pulp for what you've done to him, I just wish I had time to do it. You better hope I never come back here again."

"Piccolo!" Hudson barked. "It is against regulations for a UEO serviceman to become involved in a brawl, stand down."

He saw the doctor smile smugly at Piccolo.

"However, the rules are considerably more relaxed for senior personnel."

And he heard the satisfying crunch of bone as his fist connected with the doctor's nose.

* * *

Tim had called ahead to let everyone know the situation, so the med team was standing by when they arrived.

They stood aside while the medics did their work and rushed Lucas to the med bay. Tony and Tim started to follow, but Hudson stopped them.

"No, let's let them do their work. Dagwood, you can go with them, they may need your help."

Dagwood nodded and ran after them.

"The rest of us made a promise, and we need to go to the bridge and inform the others of the situation. Not to mention getting the hell out of this place. Mr. O'Neill, I want you to call every possible person who may be able to help and let them know what's going on in that place."

"My pleasure, Captain. My pleasure."


	16. Chapter 16

He remembered taking the pills. After that, nothing seemed to make sense. In some part of his brain, he registered being unable to breathe, and an acrid taste, sour and unpleasant, and then shouting, lots of shouting. He remembered the feel of lots of rough hands on him, and pain, agonizing pain. After the pain, there was nothing for a time. Then there was darkness and a realization that he was unable to move, and then there was an all-encompassing terror. And then...nothing.

* * *

At one point - time no longer had meaning - he woke up in dim light and saw a familiar ceiling. He moved his half lidded eyes around the room and recognized it. He saw a figure beside him, but in his haze of sleep couldn't identify it. He spoke, nonetheless.

"SeaQuest? Am I dead then?"

And he fell back into nothingness.

* * *

Lucas was getting used to waking up in different places and feeling horrible, and this time was no exception. He woke up to see Lonnie sitting beside him.

"Lonnie?"

She smiled. "You know, I've spent so much time at your bedside, this is starting to look like the best relationship I've ever had!"

The joke fell flat.

"Gonna be sick."

She quickly reached around a grabbed a bowl just in time.

He rolled onto his side and vomited for several minutes. He didn't have anything inside him, and the pain of the action left him weak and shaking. She motioned to a medic and saw him quickly page Doctor Perry. He handed Lonnie a damp cloth and took the bowl away. She wiped over his forehead and placed a couple of ice chips in his mouth.

'SeaQuest?"

"Yes, welcome back." She brushed his damp hair away from his forehead. "We didn't forget you, Lucas. We wouldn't do that to you."

He just stared at her, confused. "Don't remember..."

"I'm not surprised, you were unconscious for most of it," said Doctor Perry, walking over. "Water?"

He nodded. She made a motion and Dagwood appeared.

"Hey Lucas!"

"Dagwood, can you help me raise him up a little?"

Lonnie moved aside as Dagwood gently lifted his shoulders and Perry placed a couple of pillows beneath him. It felt amazing to sit up. Lonnie poured out some water and held the cup to his lips while he sipped.

It seemed like forever since he had enjoyed the taste of cold, fresh water. He wanted to gulp it down and ask for more, but Lonnie moved it away when he started to drink too greedily.

"Not too much at first, sorry Lucas, just sips for now."

He nodded, and lay back against the pillows. He'd been awake all of five minutes and he was exhausted.

Doctor Perry sat down beside him. "Lucas?"

He forced his eyes open and looked at her.

"Listen, I know you feel bad right now, but I'm sorry, things are going to get a little rough for you for a while."

He looked at her uncomprehending. How much more bad news could he take?

"Worse than this?" he rasped, his throat still painfully dry.

"Yes, I'm sorry. They kept you on some pretty heavy drugs at the hospital, and we need to clear them out of your system. I had to continue with most of them until we had you stabilized, but we need to get them out of your system for good. There are too many different drugs in your body right now for me to feel comfortable giving you a different painkiller, but the drugs they gave you are too strong for you, and that's why you keep drifting in and out...Lucas?"

He couldn't argue, he'd already started to drift and lost the thread of her speech. He fought to look at her again, and nodded.

She saw that he hadn't been able to comprehend what she was saying.

"I'm sorry, this is going to be very unpleasant for you and you're going to have a miserable few days, but you've already survived worse and you'll feel better soon. I promise, okay?"

She'd already lost him again as he drifted into sleep.

* * *

The next few days were hell for everybody. Even Hudson came down in his free time to check on him.

His friends once again took it in turns to sit with him as his body tried to fight the chemical dependency. He drifted in and out of consciousness, alternately sweating with fever and shivering with chills running through his body. He moved restlessly, locked in nightmares and mumbling incoherent nonsense. They tried to force him to take sips of water as his sweat drenched body threw up everything they managed to get into him. Rarely, he recognized his friends, but most of the time he gazed at them in confusion.

 _He thought he saw his mother, hard and angry, railing at him for being such a nuisance again. He saw doctors and nurses walking by him as he screamed for their help. He saw Ben Krieg and shouted to him for help, but Ben just shook his head and said, 'we're on different sides now, Lucas!' He saw Captain Bridger, who told him that he'd like to help him, he really would, but his life was filled with so much more now, and then he started throwing a football to Michael and they ran off together. As he ran away, he shouted back 'we'll keep in touch!'_

 _He thought he saw Tim praying by his bedside, and felt comforted until his friend looked up with hateful eyes and told him that he had tried to kill himself, he would go to hell with the demons and he would burn for eternity. And he realized that he did burn, he was burning right now..._

Tim was praying, he couldn't stop praying, it was all he could do as his friend burned up with a fever so high that he began to have seizures, and everyone in the med-bay rushed to his bedside and tried to hold him down as he convulsed.

 _He was back in that dark room and he couldn't move, couldn't move his hands or feet, and he could smell sweat and human waste, and he had no voice, he couldn't call out to anyone, but he was so hot, he was getting hotter, he was burning in hell, this was hell..._

Captain Hudson looked at his Lieutenant.

"Mr. O'Neill, you don't need to be here now. They have it under control, he'll get through this. Go to your quarters and get some rest, that's an order!"

Tim didn't want to leave, it was obvious, but he didn't need to see his friend like this. Hudson wished he could send Dagwood from the room as well, but his strong arms were needed to hold down the boy, who was struggling as if his life depended on it.

Well, it did, he thought wryly.

* * *

As suddenly as the episode began, it was over. Lucas' body suddenly stopped and dropped again into stillness. As Perry ran her barrage of tests, Hudson looked at the boy.

He was shockingly thin. He'd had no opportunity to gain any ground since returning from the hospital, and now he was fighting a drug addiction that was tearing him apart. Sweat drenched his body, but the heat hadn't given him any color, it only seemed to highlight his the shadows on his face.

When Lucas had pushed him to safety, it had been his choice, his sacrifice. Hudson felt some guilt, certainly, but he had no choice in the matter. This, though...this was all his fault. Sure, he'd received orders, but he'd disobeyed orders before and survived. And for a matter as small as this, it would just have been a slap on the wrist, he was sure. Why did he tell the Admiral in the first place? He didn't need to, not then. At the very least, he should have checked the hospital, gone with the boy and made sure that he would be cared for properly. Why hadn't he done any of that? He wasn't sure. He'd agreed with the Admiral's arguments, and he was uncomfortable having the boy on board when he owed him such a debt. And Oliver Hudson hated being in debt.

Now it was worse. Now, his debt was magnified, by the addition of the...well, if he was going to be honest, the torture he had inadvertently put this boy through. How could he ever make this right?

Lucas was now calm, calmer than he had been in days, although he still tossed restlessly and uttered moans and whimpers in his sleep.

Doctor Perry had sent people off to eat and sleep - who knew what tomorrow might bring? - and she still had a responsibility to the rest of the crew. She had quite enough on her hands right now without people keeling over from exhaustion.

So it was quiet in the med bay at last. Even the doctor had gone off to find something to eat, leaving just a skeleton crew of a couple of med techs.

And so, feeling guilty as hell and wanting in some part to make up for the suffering, even a little, he did something he would never have believed of himself.

He walked over to the bed and perched on the edge of it. Then, he pulled Lucas against his side and proceeded to wipe the boy's face with a damp cloth. Periodically, he would once again dip the cloth in cooling water and then wipe again, just as his mother had when he sick as a child.

Lucas' constant murmurs began to lessen and then cease. Hudson felt him relax into a more restful sleep, but still he sat there, holding the boy.

Lucas' dreams suddenly shifted in timbre.

 _He started to dream of a time when he was a very small child and he had been sick. For once, his father was at home and was taking care of him. The memory stood out clear and vivid in Lucas' mind, since it was the only occasion when it had happened. From that point on, sickness was the domain of the nanny or the housekeeper. But on that occasion, his father had pulled the sick child onto his lap, gently mopped his brow with a damp cloth, and even sang to him. He even remembered the song, St. Judy's Comet. Every time he heard it after that he thought of his father and that day._

He smiled at the memory now, and in another world, Captain Oliver Hudson also smiled when he saw it.

Doctor Perry had been standing in the doorway for a few minutes, unable to believe her eyes. On seeing his smile, she walked over and looked down at the boy.

"Well, who knew you had the magic touch?" she teased gently. She leaned forward and felt the boy's face and neck. "Looks like that helped, his fever has gone down. He's sleeping peacefully for once. I think he might be out for a while, shall I help you lay him down?"

Hudson was surprised by his own reluctance. It had been peaceful, just sitting there.

The two of them lifted the boy's head from his chest, and he shifted slightly, his eyes opening for a brief moment. They laid him down on the bed, and he slept.

His dreams continued to be pleasant.

 _Oddly, he even dreamt that he was lying comfortably against the captain - Captain Hudson! The logical part of his brain thought that he must be feverish, if such a ludicrous image as that could come to him!_

He smiled again, and slipped farther into his first deep, natural sleep for a long time.


	17. Chapter 17

The next day felt like a new beginning. Sure, Lucas was still badly hurt, but his fever had broken, the drugs were out of his system, and he was on the seaQuest and better than he had been in days. Everyone felt happier and more optimistic. For the first time in weeks, people were actually whistling while they went about their duties. There was laughter in the mess hall. There was a prevailing sense of all being right with the world.

The only one who didn't feel the same level of optimism was Lucas. When he opened his eyes ten hours later, every single part of his body hurt. Even his eyes.

This time it was Doctor Perry herself that was sitting in the chair by Lucas' bedside.

"Hey, welcome back to the land of the living!"

"Thanks, I think," he rasped, and grimaced as he recognized a heavy throbbing in his head.

"Would you like to sit up?"

"Yes!"

He seemed to have been lying in that position for a year or more. He started to move his arms to push himself up, but she stopped him, "No, wait a moment."

She motioned across the room, and Dagwood walked over.

"Dagwood, would you lift him so he can sit up?"

Dagwood put one arm under his shoulders and another under his thighs and gently lifted him up, moving him back against the pillows that the doctor was building up behind him. Dagwood moved him gently into position, but for a few moments he faded out once more into a blinding world of color and pain. He clutched Dagwood's hand as the pain overtook him.

"Lucas? Lucas? Hey, I think we lost you there for a minute."

She noted his slightly green pallor and lifted a cup of water to his lips. He sipped it gratefully.

When he had recovered himself, he asked, "Is that going to happen every time?"

"No. You're just in a lot of pain right now."

She sat back down next to him and glanced at his hand. He realized that he was still squeezing Dagwood's hand and his nails had left marks.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Dagwood, I didn't mean to hurt you!" He let go of his friend, and realized that he was shaking.

"You didn't hurt me. And I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay, Dagwood, you were helping me."

"I like to help." With that he seemed to make a decision. He had helped before at Lucas' bedside, and knew what that involved. He sat down on the other side of the bed, and once again picked up Lucas' trembling hand. Lucas didn't know why Dagwood was continuing to hold his hand, but he had to admit that it made him feel better. His head was woozy and tremors were running through his body and the calm solidity of the gelf felt like an anchor.

Doctor Perry started to speak. "I wanted to talk to you and let you know what's going on. Do you want Dagwood to stay?"

Lucas knew that he should say no, he was after all, an adult, a UEO soldier, but he found he didn't want to hear any of this alone. Unable to admit his weakness out loud, he simply nodded his head.

"Okay. Well, if one good thing came out of your hospital stay, it was that lying still for so long gave your injuries a chance to begin healing. Unfortunately, that's about the only good thing that came from it."

"As you know, they pumped you pretty full of drugs, and we've all spent the past week trying to clear them out of you. I don't want to give you anything else until we're sure that you're back to normal, so I'm afraid that you're in a little more pain than you should be right now. I just want to wait until I've run a few more tests, and then we'll start managing the pain responsibly. Also, because you've been lying so still for so long, your muscles have adjusted to the inactivity. You're going to have to start doing some exercises. Dagwood said he wants to help!" she smiled at them both, "but I'm afraid it's going to feel very uncomfortable."

Lucas nodded, then regretted it as a bolt of pain rushed through his head. Doctor Perry noticed his wince, and refilled the cup of water and placed it in his trembling hands.

"Your head hurts because of the drugs and the dehydration. Try to drink as much water as possible. Also, you've become severely malnourished and that doesn't help. We're going to start you on some light broth this morning, and if you can keep that down we can put you back on a regular diet."

She didn't want to tell him the next part, which was basically that they had let him down and he was going to continue pay for their mistake.

"I'm sorry, but because of all of this, we're going to have to delay the treatments for your back and legs. You're just too weak to handle them right now. We can still start them later on, but we just can't risk them in your present condition. I'm so sorry."

"So what's going to happen to me?"

She smiled at him with as much optimism as she could muster, "We're going to do everything we can to make you better."

"And if you can't?"

"Then we'll talk about it then." She paused.

"That thing you tried," she said tactfully, "in the hospital. Please don't try that again. Whatever happens now, we'll try and figure it out. We learned our lesson with this experience, and we're not about to let you go again, okay?"

"Okay."

He didn't want to discuss this in front of Dagwood, but he still wanted the comfort of that stolid presence.

"What happened...before? I don't really remember...why didn't it work?"

"What do you remember?"

"I remember taking the pills..."

"I wondered, how did you get them? You were bedridden."

"From the moment I arrived, I asked every nurse I saw for a headache pill. I saved them in my pillow, they didn't change the beds so no one was going to find them."

Perry felt anger wash over her at his casual acceptance of the conditions.

"And then what do you remember?"

"I remember taking them. I did it at night, there were rarely any nurses around at night, and when there were they didn't really check on you. Then it's just...disjointed images. I think I was sick? There were people shouting, and I could taste...well, that...but it really hurt...and the next thing I knew it was dark, and my stomach and head hurt, and I couldn't move at all. That was really scary, I remember being more terrified than I've ever been before, just lying there in the dark, unable to move. It was like my worst nightmare. And then I just felt like I was fading away, and I thought I'd done it and I was...," he swallowed, "dead. And then I woke up here."

"I looked at your records. The pills you took should have done the job, but they reacted with other medications that you were taking and made you sick instead. Apparently, the other patients heard you choking and managed to get the attention of a nurse, and they pumped your stomach. But after that, they needed to make sure you didn't try it again, so they moved you to the Psych ward, restrained you, and pumped you full of drugs. We came for you a few days later."

"You're going to have to talk about it, you know."

"You saw what that place was like - could you blame me?"

"No, I can't say that I would. But you and I know that you had something planned before you even got there. That's what we need to talk about."

"No, I didn't..., it wasn't..."

"Dagwood told us you gave him a note. If I asked him for that note right now, would it say what I think it would say?"

Lucas flushed a deep red and looked down at his hands. He saw Dagwood's hand in his, and looked at his friend. Then he looked back at the doctor.

"Do we have to talk about this now?"

"No, not if you promise not to try anything like that again."

"If I have to go to a place like that again, I will."

"Okay. How about this? You promise that you won't attempt it again while you're part of the seaQuest's crew?"

He nodded. "Okay."

Doctor Perry knew enough about Lucas to know how to make this promise stick.

"Say the words 'I promise' to Dagwood. If you break your promise, you'll be breaking a promise to him."

She was right. He could never break a promise to Dagwood. But if he were a part of seaQuest's crew, it didn't matter. That was all he ever wanted anyway. He could keep this promise. He met Dagwood's eyes.

"I promise, Dagwood."

Dagwood hadn't really understood everything they were talking about, but he felt the solemnity of the moment and he could ask the doctor about it all later. She smiled at Dagwood, obviously happy about Lucas' promise, and then turned back to Lucas.

"So, how does some hot broth sound?"


	18. Chapter 18

It was funny, thought Hudson, but everything seemed to be running better now that Lucas was back on board.

Lucas' closest friends still seemed to have some kind of visiting rotation in place, but it seemed as though almost everyone on board had gone to see him. He was surprised to hear one old sailor - not a man given to hyperbole or flowery language - saying to his friend, 'well, he's like the heart of the ship, isn't he? He's been here since the beginning!', and everyone seemed, consciously or unconsciously, to echo that statement.

Not only was he popular, but he had a way with computers that was unparalleled, and the Captain had already suffered through a few complaints by Doctor Perry about crewmembers going to Lucas for help with computer problems.

In Hudson's opinion, Lucas probably enjoyed the computer problems far more than the visits, and the Captain was happy to have his boat working properly again.

He had realized that whatever the problems - and there would undoubtedly be problems - Lucas was a part of his crew, an essential part. He made a decision, and spoke into his PAL.

"Secondary crew to the bridge, senior crew to the wardroom. Doctor Perry, Mr. Piccolo and Dagwood, to the wardroom."

He sat and waited.

Everyone arrived in the next couple of minutes, looking worried. They guessed what - or rather who - this was about.

"I won't insult your intelligence, we all know why we're here. Doctor Perry, can you inform us of the current situation?"

"Well, over the past few days he's started to improve. The hospital stay set his treatment back by a few months, but, on the plus side, lying still for so long was good for his back. He can sit up now without too much discomfort, and now that he's starting to eat properly and he's doing exercises, I'm hoping his health will only continue to improve. He's regained some feeling in his left leg, which is a good sign. We have a wheelchair that he can use, and I'm hoping to start helping him learn how to manage with it in the next few days. I'm sure he'll start to feel much better when he can move around a little."

"I didn't ask for just the good news, Doctor, tell us the rest of it." At this statement he actually felt the mood of the room change from worried to angry.

Perry looked at him coldly, and started talking in a more clinical voice.

"He's still very weak, very tired. After his stay in the hospital and his drug dependency, his immune system is shot to hell, the slightest bug could wipe him out for weeks. He's in a lot of pain most of the time, and the only painkillers that seem to help make him sick to his stomach, which isn't helping him to recover the weight he lost while he was in the hospital."

Hudson didn't miss the repeated angry references to the hospital and the harm that had been done there.

"Because of the setbacks he suffered in the hospital," there it was again!, "he isn't strong enough to start him on the treatments for his back and legs, and he's looking at being in a wheelchair for a least a few months. At first, he's going to need help with almost everything until he gets used to doing things on his own. He's going to have to learn how to do everything differently now, such as washing and dressing, for example. It's going to be a hard adjustment for him. He'll also need a lot of physical therapy."

He remembered, years ago in college, dating an actress who told him the greatest skill you could learn was how to read a room. He was reading the room right now, and it was ugly. He could feel their anger and resentment as they glared at him.

"Finally, there are the emotional aspects to consider. We already know he's feeling vulnerable right now, and he's promised that he won't do anything while he's on the seaQuest. But he still hasn't had time to process everything that's happened to him. His physical state, coupled with the medications he's on, are going to have an effect on him, and we can all expect some pretty impressive mood swings."

"Is that everything?"

"Yes."

Hudson looked at the faces around the table.

"So this is my question - if he was to stay, how far are we all prepared to help him?"

For a minute, they all gaped at him in stunned silence.

Tim was the first to break it. "I think I can speak for everyone in this room when I say that we'd do anything we can to help him!"

A chorus of 'yes, Sir!' rose up from around the table.

"This is not something to take lightly! This is a big responsibility, and if we take this on there will be no going back, do I make myself clear?"

Again, 'yes, Sir!'

"Let's make sure we all understand what this entails. Doctor, is there anything that he needs medically that we can't provide on this sub?"

She thought for a moment. "I can request the treatments he'll need, they're just injections, we can do them here easily. He'll need someone to help him with the physical therapy, but anyone of us could help him, it's just exercising. At first he'll need someone to help him, and then he'll need someone to make sure he's doing them the way he's supposed to and keeping up with them. Anyone of us could do it. Heck, even Darwin can help with that!"

She looked around the table. They all nodded, even Tim, who wasn't a huge fan of exercising.

She bit her lip for a moment.

"But day to day will be a problem. He can't even get into his room without going down steps! Then he'd never be able to move a wheelchair around or get into the bathroom, it's too small. He'd need a way to get into the shower, the washbasin would need to be lower...and how will he get around the boat? This submarine is all steps and stairs."

Dagwood spoke up. "There's the freight elevators."

Tony joined in, excitedly, "He's right, I mean we use them for deliveries and stuff, why not for Lucas? He could get around just fine."

Ford spoke up. "What about the bridge? His station is on a higher level."

Now Lonnie spoke, "Couldn't we move him down to the main floor, next to Tim?"

They looked at each other, their excitement building.

"But what about his room?"

Now it was Hudson's turn. "Let me worry about that."

He turned to Dagwood again.

"Dagwood, as the newest official member of this crew," he had been wracking his brains to find a way to avoid saying 'as the person with the least responsibility', "would you be prepared to leave your regular duties and help him until he becomes accustomed to everything?"

"I like to help and I want to help Lucas. What would I have to do?"

Perry spoke up again. "Initially, you'd need to help him with things until he feels comfortable doing them by himself. You'd have to lift him, and may have to help him get in and out of his bed and his chair, and make sure he doesn't fall or hurt himself. At the moment, he doesn't have a lot of upper body strength, so there may be times when it's hard for him to lift his own weight."

She paused before she said the next part. She felt embarrassed having to spell it out so clearly, but she owed it to Dagwood to make sure he understood everything.

"You may also have to help him with things that may make you uncomfortable, like taking a shower and getting dressed. It's going to take him a while to learn how to do all of those things and to be strong enough to do them for himself. It's a lot of responsibility, and at the beginning you'd have to be with him day and night. It would take up all your time."

Dagwood nodded thoughtfully. "I want to do it."

Hudson intervened. "You need to be sure Dagwood, there's no going back if we decide to do this."

"I understand. I want to help Lucas!"

Hudson turned to Tony.

"And what about you? Do you still want to share a room with him?"

Tony started to respond, but Hudson cut him off.

"You need to understand what you're taking on. You'll be sharing a room with a disabled crewmember. Things will be very different. You'll have to keep everything tidy and where he can reach it. His chair will be a nuisance in the room, you may be disturbed by him at night - a trip to the bathroom for him won't be a simple thing anymore. You'll be expected to help Dagwood. It will mean giving up a lot of your free time and having to change your lifestyle. You two are the easiest crewmembers to free up to help him, but you'll be working much harder on top of your regular duties. If there's an emergency on board, I expect one or both of you to take care of him. It will require a great amount of personal sacrifice, do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir, and I want to do it, Sir!"

Doctor Perry interrupted. "He doesn't sleep well, you might hear him moving about all night, and I've already mentioned the mood swings. You need to understand, this is a huge undertaking."

"I understand completely, and I want to do it, Sir!"

Hudson grinned a little a his enthusiasm. The mood of the room had definitely changed, there was an air of excitement.

"The next problem will be shore leave, until he adjusts it would be better if someone is with him. Again, this is asking a lot. Someone has to be prepared to give up their shore leave if necessary and take care of him, instead of going out and having fun. This is something that would definitely put a crimp in someone's love life."

Tim spoke up with a grin.

"Since my love life is virtually non-existent, I think I can handle this one, Sir."

It was a weak joke, but everyone grinned at the release of tension in the room.

"Do we all realize what we're getting into if we try to do this?"

For once, they sounded like a real military unit when they all shouted, 'Sir, yes Sir!'

Ford spoke up again. "I think that we're all agreed that we're prepared to do whatever we can to keep him on board, Sir. Are we going to try?"

Hudson smiled.

"Yes. Commander, we are. Just two more things, before we go. First, keep this to yourselves for the time being. There's no sense in getting his hopes up until we've made sure we can do this."

Everyone nodded. "And second, if anyone has any friends in high places or any notable connections in the UEO, now would be a good time to call in favors. This decision may not go down all that well with the top brass. Dismissed!"


	19. Chapter 19

One week later, Hudson decided to pay Lucas another visit. He had been to med bay a few times and checked on his progress, but the visits tended to be formal and stilted, and didn't last long.

Today when he walked in, he saw Doctor Perry and Dagwood watching as Lucas practiced moving back and forth from the wheelchair to the bed. He looked as though he was doing pretty well, although there was a sheen of sweat across his brow, and he was breathing as though he was running a race.

Doctor Perry looked up and smiled. "I think that's enough for now, here's the captain to see you."

Lucas looked up, and to his credit he tried to smile. It just didn't seem that genuine. It was obvious that he still saw the captain as the enemy, and was just waiting for him to kick him off the boat.

"Sir," he said. His voice was slightly breathy and rasping from the exercise.

Hudson poured some water into a cup and handed it to the boy, who took it gratefully. Hudson noticed the slight tremor in Lucas' hand, and hoped it was from exertion and not because of his presence.

"Thanks." He drank the water and wiped the back of his hand over his sweat drenched brow. He continued to look at Hudson as if a rattlesnake had walked in and was preparing to strike.

"No other visitors today?"

"Not right now, Doctor Perry wants me to learn how to handle the wheelchair."

"You look like you've figured it out." He made no reference to the boy's obvious exhaustion.

"Yes, Sir. Thank you."

"Has Mr. Piccolo been to see you today?"

Lucas looked surprised by the question. "No, he said he would be busy today."

"Oh, that's right," Hudson pretended to remember. "We"ve been making a few changes to some of the crew quarters. Mr. Piccolo has been moved to new quarters, I imagine he's been moving his things today. He and Dagwood now share quarters, isn't that right Dagwood?"

"Yes Captain!"

Lucas looked at Dagwood in surprise, he hadn't said anything to him about rooming with Tony. Neither had Tony or anyone else for that matter. He supposed they were trying not to hurt his feelings. He felt a pang of misery. He'd hated being told that he had to share a room with Tony, but he'd come to enjoy it, he liked having someone around all the time. Now he missed it so much it hurt.

He supposed that this was the reason Hudson was here. He was finally going to tell him where he would be sent. He resolved to just accept it. His promise only applied to the seaQuest. Once he was no longer a member of this crew, it was his life and he could do whatever he wanted.

Hudson wondered how this boy ever won at poker when his feelings showed so clearly on his face.

"Would you like to visit their new quarters?"

This was about the last thing Lucas expected him to say, and again, his surprise showed on his face. He would LOVE to get out of this med bay, he seemed to have been here forever. If he was startled that it was Hudson that suggested this excursion, well, he guessed the world could still surprise him.

"Yes! Yes, please, Sir." He looked around to see if Perry would object, but she seemed to have gone.

"Dagwood, will you take Lucas to see your new quarters?"

Lucas looked at Dagwood, who looked like a child at Christmas time. He must be excited at the thought of having a roommate, he thought.

Dagwood led the way, almost bouncing in his haste. Oddly, though, he didn't turn towards the stairs or the elevator, but continued along the passage to where the VIP guest rooms were housed. Lucas was confused. Surely Hudson wasn't putting his two most junior crew members in one of the best rooms the seaQuest had to offer?

But sure enough, that's where Dagwood was heading, and when he reached a room at the end of the corridor, he flung open the door and walked in. Lucas looked at Hudson quizzically, and then rolled his chair into the room.

Tony was looking down at him from the top bunk. Darwin turned and rolled excitedly in his aqua tube. Dagwood and Hudson were both smiling at him, one smiling so broadly that you could see all his teeth, the other more restrained.

Lucas looked around the room. On one side of the room there were bunk beds. Tony lounged on the top, and Dagwood walked over and sat on the bottom. On the other side of the room was a single bed. He saw that someone had pinned up his photographs and pictures beside it. Against the wall in the middle of the room stood a huge computer array. HIS computer array. This was his stuff.

His stuff was in this room.

He jumped when he heard voices behind him.

"Think he's figured it out yet?" Lonnie asked.

"I don't think so," replied Tony, and then in a fake whisper, "I've said it before, he ain't that bright!"

All of his friends were standing behind him, crammed into the doorway. It looked like the entire crew was there.

"Show him the bathroom!" said one of the guys from engineering.

Tim stepped forward and took the handles of Lucas' chair. He quirked an eyebrow to ask if it was okay, and Lucas nodded.

Tim wheeled him forward into a large bathroom. There were rails around the walls and the washbasin had been lowered. A large shower had been fitted with a built in seat, and all the taps were in easy reach. Lucas saw that someone had hung his robe on the back of the door.

He wheeled himself out of the bathroom and looked around once again. He swallowed a lump in his throat and looked at Tim. Tim would never lie to him.

"I can stay?"

Tim nodded.

He still couldn't believe it, "This is for me?"

Hudson spoke up.

"Not at all, Ensign. This is a very useful room to have, and I'm surprised it wasn't included in the original design specifications. If we have any visiting dignitaries with similar needs, you will be expected to share, is that understood?"

Everyone laughed, including Lucas, although within seconds he realized that all the pent up tension he was feeling was suddenly released, and he turned his face away and bit his lip to hide his relieved sobs.

As if he hadn't noticed, Hudson turned back to the doorway.

"Okay everybody, this is not a public holiday, if you don't have enough work to do, I can promise you I will find you some!"

The senior staff stayed, but the rest of the crewmen quickly moved away, smiles on their faces. It didn't matter what he said, they would go to hell and back for this captain now.

Tim bent down and put his arms around Lucas as he tried to fight back his sobs. Tony jumped down and joined him, and Lonnie quickly came over as well. Lucas swallowed and wiped his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why...this is just so..."

Ever tactless, Tony jumped in, "That's okay, kid. The doc told us those meds could make you a little loopy."

Everyone glared a Tony, but Lucas couldn't help it. This time, he did laugh, a real laugh, and after a minute everyone was smiling with him.

Even still, Lucas couldn't quite believe it.

"But how can I stay here if I'm in a wheelchair?"

Hudson met Lucas' eyes.

"Everyone tells me that we can make this work, and I trust my crew. However, you would do well to remember that you're still on a military vessel. You might want to do something about tidying up your hair, Ensign, it's a disgrace."

He turned and left the room, listening to the excited chatter behind him. If you think about it, he thought to himself, is a wheelchair bound crewman on a military submarine in wartime any more ridiculous than a talking dolphin?


End file.
